Of Fur and Flame Book Two: Passages
by Killy-S
Summary: The Arson and his wife sail across the sea. Meanwhile back at Salamandastron two haremaids grow up. Time passes, warriors will be made, and new enemies will rise. Continued from Book one: Two Daughters
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Hello again,

Welcome to _Of Fur and Flame Book Two: Passages_. I'm sure there are a few of you who have been looking forward to this. With exams just around the corner (and the fact the second half of this book isn't written yet) chapters will be a little slower going. Your patience and encouragement is appreciated.

In this book time goes by very quickly. Some chapters will take place weeks after the previous one, others seasons after. I will make note of any time jumps.

As always reviews are welcome. Constructive criticism is most welcomed, don't fret I don't take anything personally.

Well…that's enough from me.

**Chapter 1: A Fresh Start**

Preparations for Oranna to take over her father's position were well under way. She and her mother Emerlan awoke when most of the hares were still dreaming, and the two badgers made their way to the mess hall. While Emerlan prepared a cup of hot tea for each of them, Oranna unfolded her parchment and set to work.

"I think it is time to expand the infirmary. Would it be unreasonable to add a second wing in the spring?" The young badger peered up at her mother, accepting the steaming mug of hot comfrey tea.

Making herself comfortable Emerlan nodded slowly. Tipping the cheerful, albeit slightly chipped blue teapot, towards her own mug. "I don't think it would be unreasonable. Whatever gave you the idea to modify the infirmary?"

"Oh, I was just listening to some of the healers talking about the lack of work space they had. I overheard them say we needed a proper surgery."

"Well, aren't you attuned to the needs of your mountain," Emerlan said with a smile.

Blushing a little behind her stripes, Oranna studied Salamandastron's floor plan. "Not really, Mother. Although, after the formal business is taken care of, I would like to take into account more of what the hares wish. After all, it is their home as much as ours."

Using her stick of charcoal, Oranna made a slight alteration to the floor plan, indicating where the new sickbay wing would be located. At that moment, Colonel Hardan arrived at the mess hall, humming one of the old Long Patrol ballads as he walked. Seeing both of the badgers busy at work he strolled towards them. Looking over the Oranna's alterations, the senior hare twitched his waxed whiskers in an approving manner.

"Top hole architectural doodlings, Oranna m'gel. Those saw-bones have long been dropping hints about wanting more of the jolly ol' wiggling room. This will please them greatly … an', more h' importantly, get them off my blinking tail wot wot."

Emerlan poured the hare a hot cup of tea and pulled out a chair for him to join them. "My daughter is planning for many new changes, so I suggest you get ready for builders and engineers in the upcoming season."

"Oh, goodness me! I dread to think of the calamity an' din an' racket all that will make. Not to mention the flipping mess. Lack 'a day, the price we pay for progress, wot wot?"

"Oh, you know you'll love it when everything is over, Hardan. You'll wish you thought of it yourself." Oranna laughed sweetly at the hares complaints.

"An' who's to say I won't be taking some of the jolly credit h'anyway, wot?" He sipped his tea and nearly choked on it from his chuckling. "But in all seriousness, there is still a lot to be done. Must get those boring formalities over with and wotnot. Bally waste of time if you ask me."

"Then why not drop half of it?" Oranna asked exasperated.

"Now, young lady, when have we military types ever done anything sensible like that? This mountain is made of courage, grit and the ability to make utter fools of ourselves, but at least we look flippin' formidable while doing so. Why else do ye think the chaps get landed with buff uniforms wot?" The old hare struck what he thought to be a rather dashing pose; chin up, ears back and right paw tucked into his tunic over his heart.

"But all the formalities are really unnecessary. A Badger Lady is always humble; she has her hares to take care of the pomp, circumstance and snobbery for her."

"Thank ye m'lady," Hardan said, fixing his waxed whiskers.

Sighing heavily, Oranna winked to her mother taking a different approach to appeal to her Colonel."Besides, if we shorten the parades and ceremony, we can make the feast last longer."

"An' why didn't ye bally well suggest this in the first place?" The hare smiled, knowing that Oranna recognized the one thing hares loved most: food.

"So you agree, then? We shorten the ceremony and lengthen the party following it?" The badger grinned broadly, eyes lit up hoping he might agree.

"Did ye really need to ask, Oranna?" From within the kitchen the serving staff had begun setting out breakfast. Hardan stood and snapped off a salute. "Well, it appears time to break my fast. I bid you both a pleasant morning." Without wasting time he made his way towards the food, moving with surprising speed for a creature of his seasons.

Emerlan stood, but noticed her daughter remained seated. "Don't you want something, dear?"

"No, Mother, I have work to do. But if you can grab me one of those scones before they vanish forever, that would be appreciated."

Emerlan smiled and left her daughter to her work.

…

Tutsan carried Blyth while Peony bore Letitia as the newly-expanded hare family came down to the mess hall for breakfast. Having gotten little sleep, both parents were bleary-eyed and bedraggled. The babes, by contrast, were cheerful and jubilant. Taking his seat, Tutsan struggled to balance both babe and breakfast, marveling at how his wife skillfully managed both. Hardan, having finished his breakfast, relieved Tutsan of his charge and sat beside him. Blyth appeared most content to be bounced on the Colonel's knee, making no fuss once parted from her father.

"I am anxiously h'awaiting the h'arrival of the rest of your patrol, Tutsan. Wotever creatures are committin' acts of arson have to be stopped h'immediately. I took the liberty of sending out a small party of trackers to follow the route Blodwen told us about. They will relieve your hares, and rally around, t'seek out any suspicious vermin."

"I wish I could lead that patrol, Colonel." Glancing at his wife, he added, "But I think the missus would jolly well slaughter me."

Hardan smiled and nodded. "I'd say you were on the mark there, Tutsan. Besides, a break will do you good wot. I don't suppose ye ever fancied yourself landed with two leverets in the span of a few days." The old campaigner, lifted little Blyth up till she was nose level with him. Crossing his eyes and wiggling his ears in comic fashion he set her down upon his knee once more before repeating the action, much to the leveret's delight.

Watching the antics with a smile about his face Tutsan replied. "No, sah, I didn't. I love them dearly but I miss the sleep."

Passing little Blyth back to her father, Hardan patted the Captains back heartly. "Get used to it, laddie buck. It will get worse before it gets better."

Aubery had nominated himself as guide to the otter family. He and Keelee were getting along famously, owing to their shared offbeat sense of humour. Pushing and shoving his way into the breakfast line, he made way for his companions.

"Hold fast there, chaps! Guests first, don't'cha know. These jolly otter types have traveled long to be with us. Must make sure they get the best of the best manners and all that, wot."

There were muffled grumbles from the assembled hares as the cheeky lieutenant escorted his otter companions into the lineup.

Soon he was balancing a heavily laden breakfast tray in one paw and young Kale's bowl of oatmeal in another. Setting the food on the officer's table, he helped settle the young otter kit into a chair. Noticing there weren't enough chairs for the entire otter family, Aubrey turned to go in search of more seats - but not before assigning an important task to the otter pup.

"Kale, my lad, are you ready to take on the most important operation of your life?" His voice carried a tone of mock seriousness.

The young otter - who had in the past few hours made up his mind to be a warrior - saluted, wriggling his nose and trying to look more like a hare. "Yes, sir!" he shouted.

Returning the salute and nodding, Aubery smiled at the young kit. "Very good, sah. Be sure no blighter takes a bite out of your officer's breakfast. Yer first bit of guard duty. Best of luck, old lad." With that he made an elaborate about face, then marched off to collect the required chairs.

Colonel Hardan watched the young otter hovering over Aubery's tray. Unable to resist he crept up behind the young one."My word, that raspberry scone does look good, doesn't it?"

Kale nodded. "Oh, yes, Mister Colonel sir, it does look good. But Aubery took the last one and he asked me t' guard it, so guard it I will."

"Took the last one, did he? Well, that wasn't very nice, wot with a young laddo like yer self having none. I bet he won't notice if you take a little taste, wot." The kindly elder hare nudged him encouragingly.

Kale looked around to see if Aubery was watching. Not seeing the hare, he followed Hardan's advice and took a bite out of the scone. Finding it to be tasty beyond imagining, Kale couldn't help but finish it off.

The Lieutenant returned with the extra seats, throwing a comedic glance at Kale. "Hmmm ... something seems to be amiss here wot wot. Have you kept a watchful eye on the tuck as I instructed, young lad?"

The otter nodded quickly brushing crumbs from his whiskers.

"Then why, pray tell, is that little scone gone?"

Pointing innocently at Colonel Hardan, Kale sputtered. "Mister Colonel told me to, sir. Please don't be cross with me, on me rudder I didn't wanna do it."

Taking his seat and patting the young otter's head, Aubery smiled. "You're going to be a regular rotter of an otter one of these days."

" Aye, sir. And I learned from the very best." Kale grinned shoveling large spoonfuls of oatmeal into his mouth.

…

At the conclusion of breakfast, Margie and Peony retired to the peaceful side gardens with their children. The gardens were a calm sanctuary amidst the endless hurry of mountain life. The two mothers sat on the stone benches that many seasons ago were built into the mountain face. Nursing their respective offspring they listened to the cry of distant seabirds, and the crash of the waves below. No words were exchanged for a while as they relaxed in the quiet realm of understanding that only two mothers could enjoy. At length, the otter wife to broke their silence.

"What a beautiful view ye 'ave from this mountain. Ye can see clear out to the horizon, and nearly to the forest edge."

"It is both beautiful and practical, as Tutsan always says. But all I see is the beauty of a sunrise over the woodlands and a sunset into the water. If it wasn't for the sea raiders it would be absolutely idea."

Margie rocked little Alton, patting the kit's back. "Ye sound almost as though ye regret yer life 'ere. But I knows that isn't true. Yer just like the others 'ere, Peony. Ye wouldn' 'ave it any other way."

"Ah, the plight of the perilous hare. Woe to the corsair that bothers a hare with two leverets in her care. The Colonel always jokes that he should send an army of mothers into battle, for they fight harder than anybeast." The harewife laughed closing her weary eyes a moment.

"Aye, 'tis true. If anybeast dared threaten 'arm t'my boys, I would fight to the death and then some to protect 'em."

Peony nodded in agreement, setting the two leverets down in the soft grasses that grew in tufts along the mountainside. Margie placed her offspring beside them, smiling as the three young babes watched their mothers in loving admiration.

"I mus' t'ank ye for yer hospitality," the otter wife added.

"And I must thank you, Margie, for saving the life of Letti. I dread to think what would have happened if you and your family had not come to the rescue. I do hope you will spend the season with us. It would be an absolute honour to both Tuts and I."

"No, I really can't, although will be 'ard for the ole Skipper to sail from 'ere. We 'ave a home to return to, even if it hasn't seen us in quite some time. But don't ye worry - our paths will cross again someday." Glancing down at the cuddling infants, she smiled. "I don't think little Alton will stand to be far from your Letti for long."

**Three weeks later.**

Lieutenant Brea arrived at Salamandastron shortly past dawn, accompanied by Mayweed and Levkin. The patrol was greeted by the watch at the main entrance and immediately escorted to breakfast.

Levkin had never experienced such a hasty reception. The young galloper had often dreamed of the day he would be invited to sit at the officer's table and served a scoff befitting a hero. In all those fantasies, he never pictured having to answer questions between hasty mouthfuls. Perhaps this officer business wasn't as grand as he had originally imagined.

Hardan scarcely gave the Lieutenant time to breath as he continued to press for more information.

"An' ye are positive there was no unusual vermin h'activity after Captain Tutsan departed?"

"No, Sah, everything continued the same. We made contact with several local clans and tribes and none had seen anything out of the ordinary. One tribe of voles told us of some disturbance in a local vermin settlement. Something to do with a chap by the name of Jallgo. This fox wallah ran a sort of merchant operation, trading goodness knows wot. The locals didn't seem to bothered with the fellow. Shortly after that we met with ole Patchwill's patrol and informed him of the little flap that was on. The old lag relieved us of our duties and we nipped back t'Salamandastron to make report sah."

Hardan nodded, finishing his morning mug of tea. "Just as well, Lieutenant. I've heard of this Jallgo chap. Hasn't ruffled the ears of the jolly ol' intelligence yet, so it's best not to waste the effort. Finish your breakfasts now, and I'll expect a full written report before you sit to lunch, wot wot?"


	2. Chapter 2: The Slumbering Captain

**Chapter 2: The Slumbering Captain**

Tutsan, stood at the port entrance to the mountain fortress, seeing off the sea otters on their journey home. As he watched _The Morning Star_ sail towards the horizon, he gave a final salute to his friends. Turning to go back inside the mountain, he found his way blocked by an eager runner standing painfully at attention - clearly a novice in the ways of the Long Patrol. The young creature kept his hind paws snapped tight together, ears pointed upward, chin in, chest out, but despite his best efforts he looked little more than a leveret playing dress-up. With a nod, Tutsan put the runner at ease. Just as the young creature was about to speak, Brea came bounding up behind him.

"Word was I'd find you out here." The tall muscular hare called out to the captain. The young runner's ears drooped as he reported with a sigh, "Lieutenant Brea has returned home, sah." His now-unnecessary message delivered, he excused himself and withdrew, unnoticed by the officers.

"I see you've returned home in one piece, old lad," Tutsan laughed, giving Brea a few playful punches to the shoulder.

"Right you are, Sah. Heard about yer newest bundle of joy. Might I extend congratulations, or would you rather condolences, wot wot." He winced slightly, stepping back as Tutsan hit him a little harder than intended.

"And when are y' going to settle down, Brea, old chap? Don't think I haven't noticed you and Miss Mayweed." He couldn't resist one more dig at Brea.

"Steady on, Captain, let me make a full report before you decide to start matching me up." He nodded toward the mountain. "I'm off to give a full briefing to the Colonel and Lady Oranna. I'm assuming you wish to be present."

Marching off smartly, the pair made their way to the officer's mess. They chatted and joked as though they were creatures of far younger seasons.

…

Killicia lounged in bed even though it was well past noon. Hearing a knock on her cabin door, she pulled up her blankets and called out, "It's open! Come in."

Jack the searat strolled into the room, bearing a plate of food. It was simple fare, but well liked by the young ferret captain; cooked fish and fried potatoes, although it looked more like blobs of white and gold on the plat. Setting the food beside the bed, he sat down beside her sitting in the void where a right leg ought to have been.

"Bogbean tells me ye're not getting up today. Want to tell me why?" he said in a fatherly manner most unbecoming of a searat.

"'cause I don't care to. We must be sailing into Badger territory by now. Kindly tell the crew to stow arms, will ye, Jack? Set a course for shore. We're going to need to take on water before heading to Sampetra. Send the twins ashore, but remind them to keep their heads low and not cause any trouble. Better yet, send them in unarmed. Those hares won't attack an unarmed creature." The young creature put both paws behind her head and settled back on her pillow.

"As ye say, Cap'n." Jack slowly got up and turned to leave.

"An' one more thing, Jack," Killicia said with a smile. "Don't wake me up again untill we're being boarded."

…..

Giving into her mother's wishes, Peony delivered the two leverets to her mother's quarters to spend some time with their grandmother. Mem Samara had been particularly keen on seeing Blyth, and at Peony's insistence the two were not to be separated. Both leverets were to be raised as though they were flesh and blood siblings. Peony was not about to stand for any objections. It felt strange, these short periods away from her children. There was a pang of guilt being away from them, and the hint of fear that Letti may experience another one of her fits. She pushed those nagging feelings aside for the time being. Her mother had raised two daughters of her own, and they were not that far away shoul anything happen. Times like this would be few and far between, and Peony did want to take advantage of these little breaks.

Strolling past her mother's chambers, she wandered though the hall of officer's rooms. Each door bore a plaque displaying the name of the individual or individuals within. Coming upon her room, she happily ran her paw over the engraving, infused with a sense of pride. The elegant script curled, intertwining each letter of their names. Passing by several more doors, she came up to the chambers of Major Bernard Mullins. She knocked on the door and called out, hoping the Major was still in.

"Hello, Major? It's me, Peony Linwood."

The door clicked and opened, revealing the stout hare. The room behind him was very different from the Linwood chambers. Still a bachelor, Bernard had a smaller living space lacking any sort of feminine touches. Like the Linwood quarters, it was divided into two rooms. The office portion was small and had a small desk and matching chair as its only furnishings. Peony could see past that into the bedroom from where she stood; by the state of things it was easy to tell the Major was packing for his patrol.

"Hello, Peony," he said in a brusque, awkward manner.

"I see you're busy, Major, but might I come in for a moment? I promise I won't keep you long, Sah." She smiled as he stepped aside and granted her entrance.

The Major said nothing and returned to his packing, every piece of his kit fitting perfectly into place. He finished the task in a silence that neither hare broke. No words were needed. It was Bernard who finally spoke.

"It won't be the same without you, Peony. I've been assigned a new tracker, but I doubt he'll live up to your standards."

"Nonsense. I'm sure he'll be absolutely top notch, especially with an expert like you to teach him, Major. I must admit I will miss you and the other chaps this time around. Promise you won't replace me too quickly."

Straightening his uniform, he bestowed a smile upon her. "Never, Peony." Pausing, he spoke again with a deep sense of seriousness. "There is danger apaw, Peony. There are rumors in the north that I fear will be prove true. I don't wish to startle you, m'dear, but I hope you will be back on duty before the trouble starts. There are only a few hares who'll be able to handle the situations that may unfold. And you jolly well are the best we have."

"Thank you, Major. From you, that means a lot."

Fully packed and ready to go, the Major lead Peony out of his chambers. Peony hugged him tightly, taking Bernard completely by surprise.

Taken even more by surprise was Captain Bloomberry as she turned the corner and saw the two hares. She watched as they embraced and Peony whispered into the Major's ear. Waiting for him to depart, Bloomberry approached her friend.

"What was all that jolly well about?" she asked in a demanding tone.

"I was only wishing my officer good luck on his patrol. Is there a new law you haven't informed me of, Bloom?" Peony said defensively.

"Last time I checked, that isn't the customary goodbye for an officer. Besides, you don't even like Major Bernie."

"Correction: You're the one who doesn't like him. Major Mullins and I are friends, and have been for seasons."

"I can see that." Bloomberry stepped in front of Peony to cut off any escape. "Is there something I should know about? " Her tone slipped into that of playful banter.

"Oh yes, he's asked me to jolly well run away with him." Peony rolled her eyes and locked elbows with her long time friend. "Now listen here Bloom, the babes are off with mater, I have about two hours, wot ever will two charming doe eyes beauties like us do in that time? "

Patting Peony's paw, Bloomberry strolled casually beside her ears wiggling comically. " Here's a wiz, why not pop down to the beach, with our dearest friend a flagon of elderberry wine. Perhaps he might even invite his mates along, some mountain cheese, perhaps a scone or two."

"Capital idea." Nudging Bloomberry they walked off together to enjoy their time together.

Lieutenant Brea relaxed in the officer's mess with a hot cup of tea. Having given his full report, he took the opportunity to lounge and relax with his fellow officers. Oranna sat back absorbing the information just relayed to her. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it all yet, but was pleased she had taken part in her first official briefing. Tutsan sat at the small table drumming his paws on a small map, laying out the lands around Mossflower.

Sighing, Brea put his cup aside. "Sorry I don't have more to tell you, Tutsan. It's just like they vanished."

Tutsan shrugged, folding his paws in front of him. "You did all you could, old chap. Well, Lady Oranna, Colonel - what do you propose we do now?"

Before Oranna could speak, one of the young runners ran into the mess. "Lady Oranna, Watch just reported the vessel that's been anchored off the coast has started to move closer to land."

Oranna climbed to her feet. "What colours are flying?" she asked in a no-nonsense manner that impressed Colonel Hardan.

"Watch says Vinland colours," the runner replied promptly.

"That would be the Nixie then," Colonel Harden said. "A vermin vessel, but mostly harmless. Still, it would be a good idea to investigate." The hare officer rose from his seat, adjusting his uniform. "Shall we make formal introductions, M'lady?"

"You mean to board the vessel, Colonel?" Oranna inquired.

"Why not? It's good to give the blighters a bit of a verbal warning, and will give ye a chance to practice. This won't be the first time ye'll have to address some vermin wot wot." The colonel went to follow the runner, nodding to the others. "Complements, chaps. Be back soon."

When the knock at the door came, Killicia Swiftfang was ready. In a well-rehearsed maiden voice she answered, "Enter, please."

Into the small cabin came Jack the searat mate and Bogbean the weasel boson, both vermin leading the large female badger and the Long Patrol hare. Killicia had crossed paths with Colonel Hardan before, and now she couldn't help but smile as though they were old friends. The other members of the crew watched curiously from the doorway. Having been thoroughly warned by Jack to hide any weapons and to be on their best behaviour, they looked on in silence. Their newest crewmember, the fox Reginald Goregeo, had elected to stay on board, fearing that the villains who slew his cousin would make an attempt on his own life should he return to Mossflower. Bogbean sought to assure him that this would not be the case and begged Killicia to maroon the fox on the first island they came across. Reginald fixed a monocle to his eye and tried to get a better look at the Salamandastron officials.

"What are they doing here? We're not being attacked, are we?" the fox whispered anxiously, in obvious fear for his own pelt.

"Shut up, Reggi," the twins Ripp and Rapp muttered in unison.

Scowling at the young weasels, the fox noble pushed them aside to get a better look inside the cabin.

Oranna had never been on board a corsair vessel. It was clear to see the reputation of Salamandastron far preceded her. All the vermin crew seemed uneasy and terrified at the sight of her. Although, she hadn't expected the captain of _The Nixie_ to be a ferretmaid younger then herself. Nor did she expect to find the leader of this vessel reclining in bed as though woken from a nap.

Killicia smiled politely to her two guests. "Jack, please find a seat for our visitors."

The searat began moving crates about, offering them to the badger and hare. Hardan waved his paw in refusal.

"No, we don't intend to stay long." the hare replied, moving his hind paw out of the way of the small hermit crabs that were curiously scuttling toward him.

Spotting the crabs, Killicia called to them softly. "Here, Monty and Tego, leave the gentlebeast alone."

Obediently the two hermit crabs climbed up onto the bed to sit at the ferret's side. "Now, we all know what you're going to say, Your Ladyship," the ferret said with a respectful nod to Oranna. "Let me assure you that neither my crew nor I are interested in assaulting Salamandastron or bothering any of the nearby inhabitants. We're only taking on water so we can sail to more favorable climates."

"Then you best be on your way promptly, ferret. I will not tolerate corsairs on my door step." The voice of Oranna rang though the cabin, startling the crew and Colonel Hardan.

"Corsairs?" Killicia sounded almost hurt. "Please, Yer Ladyship doesn't consider us to be such ruffians, does she? We are naught but humble traders. Have ya seen any weapons among my crew? If we were villainous creatures, surely we would have swashbuckled some innocents or whatever it is those cads do." She smiled sweetly, but neither Oranna nor Hardan were taken in by her innocent act.

"Don't play us for duffers, Miss Swiftfang," the hare scolded. "We've had our run-ins before, and I happen to know that you instruct your scummy crew to hide their weapons, wot. What do you bally well take us for miss?"

"Oh, very well. There is another reason I came, but it wasn't for plunder, because frankly none of ye b'yes down this end got anything that even remotely catches me fancy. There was a fire I think ye may be interested in. Some big shot assassin or summat went down to Jallgo's place, murdered the old merchant and Romlan de' Gorge, then packed up the whole lot of them and set sail."

"Away from Mossflower, or toward Mossflower?" the hare asked inquired sharply.

"Away, as far as we know. But they burnt out the whole trading post first and got more than one ship of ruffians out on the high seas. Thought ye might want to know about it. Putting in a citizen's complaint, seeing as I had 30 barrels of salt fish to take to Jallgo."

"If they are leaving our shores, then good riddance to them," Oranna said. "Ferret, Salamandastron has no interest in protecting the ports of vermin. We will not protect what you have earned from the suffering of good creatures. If you do not set sail within the hour, I will have my hares sink this vessel. We are done here now, Colonel." Oranna turned to leave.

Jack, who had been blocking the door, promptly stepped aside, allowing the badger and hare exit.

"Well, isn't she a sweetheart," he said as soon as they had left the ship.

Reginald, who had watched the entire conversation couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "What exactly was that exchange supposed to achieve? Besides the wrath of a badger and goodness knows how many hares?"

Bogbean shook his head. "You don't know the Cap'n very well, do you, mate?"

The fox huffed "Did you miss the part where the badger said she would have the ship sunk? I don't see how that helped us in any way. But please enlighten me."

Getting out of bed, Killicia buckled on her leg and strolled on deck, still in her nightgown. The two pet hermit crabs followed dutifully behind. "You see, Reggi my foxy friend, the badger missus my have missed the point of my little tale. However, ole Hardan has been around a lot longer, he knows how dangerous a new band of murders and robbers are even if they are not  
sailing close to his territory. He'll get word out to all his hares to keep their eyes peeled. And they in turn will warn the other armies they encounter. Before you know it, every hare, squirrel, and otter who knows his way around a fight will be looking out for that lot."

"And how does that help us?"

Scooping up the hermit crabs and setting them on her shoulders, she explained. "Well, we won't have to worry about them, will we? I figure, let the goodbeasts take care of the ruffians for us. Now stop asking questions and get this boat moving." 


	3. Chapter 3: The Mustelidae Empite

**Chapter 3: The Mustelidae Empire**

**Three weeks later**

Nicara was growing tired of life at sea. For weeks the vessels had been sailing with no sight of land or other creature. There was nothing but the endless blue of the sea and they grey skys above them. The vixen knew her desired destination but didn't know how long the voyage would take. Her creatures were growing agitated, confined to such close quarters with one another. Good food and wine had started to run out, and Nicara's pallet was not used to the bland fare of sea biscuits. It was starting to feel as though the voyage would never end. Then, at last the lookouts spotted land.

Gathering her Captains in her chamber, she laid out her further plans.

"One of the good things that came from my father's foreign trade was a knowledge of foreign politics," Nicara said with a light chuckle. On the table she laid out a map illustrating the strange continent where they were about to land upon.

"The Mustelidae Empire stretches over several small countries and is twice the size of Mossflower. If no heir is available to take the role of emperor, the electoral districts elect one. This is where we have our chance to take it for ourselves."

Nicara brought forth another scroll depicting all the royal houses in the empire. "The house of Riftguard has been vacant for a great number of seasons. The heir left the empire to build some sorts of kingdom for himself and fell off the face of the earth. This is our chance to lay a claim of our own."

Konnal was lost by Nicara's plot. "I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but how is a fox supposed to pass for a member of a royal ferret house?"

Shaking her head, Nicara went over to one of the chests and opened it. Inside was gold and jewels taken from her father's treasury. "I mean to buy the title, Konnal. You can do just about anything for the right price."

Vaniska entered, surprised to see such a gathering in the chamber within. "What's going on?" he asked, casting suspicious glances towards Konnal.

Putting extra sweetness into her voice, Nicara wrapped a tender paw around her husband's shoulders. "Oh, my dear, we were just planning on where to dock. Nothing interesting, I assure you. Isn't it lovely that we will soon make land?"

Looking at the parchments laid out on the table, Vaniska shook his head. He wasn't the smartest  
creature but he knew when something was amiss. "No, ye lot are planning something without me. I 'ave just as much right to hear what's happening. Ye shouldn't be discussing things with me wife without me present. That isn't right." He nodded toward the open treasure chest. "I won't have ye wasting Nicara's wealth. Now out with it! What are ye trying to do?"

Behind Vaniska's back Nicara rolled her eyes and gave Konnal the nod to on to his lover's hint, Konnal turned the parchment so Vaniska could see. "We've arrived in the Mustelidae Empire. Lots of opportunity to build up a reputation, Vaniska. Sources tell us that the house of Riftguard is empty but still considered royalty."

Not fully understanding what Konnal was explaining, Vaniska nodded. "We can pretend to be of the royal house of Riftguard. With the number of beasts at our back, no one will dare question us."

Trying hard not to sound sarcastic, Konnal shook his head. "But there are many other strong houses in the Empire. We have the wealth to buy the title and make allies of the other royal houses. It may be best not to make too many enemies."

Seeing the sense in this, Vaniska nodded. "Sounds fair, Konnal. So when can we buy this title you speak of? I look forward to life as a king. How about you, my queen?" He smiled at Nicara.

"I anxiously await leaving this vessel," she said, trying to sound sweet and innocent.

"Never fear, my love. You will be in a fine castle before ye know it. Konnal, I should make ye advisor. Ye are always a reliable creature. Forgive me for thinking you would lead my wife astray."

Konnal nodded, forcing out between gritted teeth, "I live to serve, sire."

"That has a nice ring to it. I best go tell the others. They should prepare to make land." Leaving the chamber, Vaniska immediately commenced barking orders to unsuspecting creatures, practicing for his kingship.

"Can I kill that aggravating numbskull now, Nicara?" Konnal said, watching Vaniska leave.

"No, I will need him. But his day will come, never you worry."

The boats landed with a few hours to spare before dark. Eager to get underway, Nicara gathered Bittail, Konnal and a group of corsairs to accompany her and put her plan into motion. Much to her displeasure, Vaniska insisted that he and Wayta join them.

"Let them come," Konnal whispered. "Who knows? We may run into bandits and they'll get themselves killed."

"I can only wish," muttered Nicara as she agreed to allow the two foxes to join them.

The band of vermin found this strange new land very much like their own they'd left behind. The distant sound of birds perked up the ears of the corsairs who anticipated a meal of roast meat and boiled eggs. Nicara spotted a well-cobbled path. "This must lead to some sort of settlement." She called out to the others so that they would quickly follow her rather than continue their search for food.

Bittail nodded and gestured for his creatures to draw weapons. "Aye, it looks well used. Come on, make blades ready! Who knows what sort of beasties could be waiting to meet us?"

They moved in a tight group, Nicara in the centre along with Vaniska, Wayta and Konnal, surrounded by an array of deadly steel and pikes. As expected, the path soon led to a heavily fortified settlement. A tall stone wall surrounded the perimeter, looming over the group - a dark and daunting welcoming for the vermin landing party.

Many armored rats marched along the parapets, carrying long spears. Nicara's band was soon spotted, and the rats held up their arms, ready to dispatch the corsairs and foxes in a moment's notice.

"Woher kommen Sie?" one of the guards shouted demandingly.

Not understanding the question, Bittail pushed one of his corsairs forward. Rawtooth the stoat was more traveled then the others and often boasted of his skill with strange languages.

He called out an answer, still thick with his native Woodland dialect. "Us is bin aus South lands."

The rats didn't seem to understand Rawtooth's broken mishmash of their language. With a sigh, the stoat tried to communicate again.

"Sprechen Sie Woodlander?" he called out hopefully.

The rat guards didn't respond to the question but there seemed to be a sort of conversation going on between them.

"What's going on?" Bittail asked keeping a weathered eye on the rats. "I thought you knew the language?"

The stoat was growing nervous now, clutching his rusty cutlass. He was fearful that he might offend these strange rats, or loose his reputation in front of his shipmates. "I thought I did, Cap'n, but they don't seem to understand. Hang on - they's doing something."

The rat who appeared to be in charge had sent two other guards away.

"Maybe they're letting us in," Vaniska added hopefully.

A short time later, another creature joined the rats on the wall top. It was a kind of beast none of the corsairs or foxes had seen before. He was a creature of slightly bigger build than the foxes. Unlike the sleek face of a fox, this creature's was squarer. His muzzle was white but most of his face and ears were brown. The strangest thing was the creature's ears, which hung low just past his jaw line.

The strange beast called out to the band below, he spoke a dialect far closer to their own. "Who are you and what business do you have here?"

Rawtooth was about to respond when Nicara pushed him aside. "We are travelers from the south lands below Mossflower country. We wish to speak with the lord or lady of the house."

"What business do you have with my Lady?" the creature called out gruffly.

"We wish to speak our business only with your Lady. Let us in so we can conduct our business."

With a barking laugh the creature spoke to the rat guards, in whispered conference, than replied. "I don't see what business my Lady will have with foxes, but it's your pelt, not mine."

The gate was opened and the vermin moved hastily inside. Within the high walls Nicara and her party found a small village of stone houses. She was careful to observe all she could. Directly behind the wall was a sort of guardhouse where the watch rats presumably slept until it was their turn on duty. Some small plots of farms were being tended by field mice; there wasn't enough to serve the entire village so there had to be farms outside the confines of the wall as well. A military barracks could be seen, with several rats, black weasel-like creatures hanging around it. A tavern stood close by although it didn't seem to be doing much business; this was perhaps due to a set of gallows hanging across the way. Nicara tried not to wince seeing the tattery remains of what had been a silvery grey fox swaying in the breeze. The most marvelous building was the grand stone castle. The towers had been visible from the path, with large flags fluttering from the points. As they got closer, more of the strange beasts could be seen. A group of young pups played in the grass. Nicara smiled to herself; these were not the vicious killers she had feared. The young rolled and played with one another, their white-tipped tails wagging in pleasure as they enjoyed the games of youth. Surely these were nothing but simple servants, Nicara thought. As they got closer, the puppies sniffed the air and turned to her and the corsairs. Their lips pulled back, revealing dangerous rows of sharp teeth. Growling and barking, the young would have attacked had it not been for the male guide. He grabbed one of the excitable pups by the scruff and threw him back on the grass.

"No, puppies, they are not for you. Not yet, anyway."

Nicara began to wonder if this trip really was such a good idea.

The main hall of the castle was lavishly decorated with long tapestries and carefully carved stone torch sconces. Guards and servants could be seen everywhere. There were well-armed rat guards and more of the strange black weasels, many in fine garb - presumably nobility. They all whispered in a strange language, casting glances at Nicara and her party. Some seemed to sneer at the vixen, turning up their noses at her as though her presence offended them in some way. Nicara wished she had dressed her corsairs better, or at least ordered that they wash.

The throne room was far grander than the main hall. Sitting on a throne of carefully carved wood was the most elegant creature Nicara had ever seen. Then Nicara remembered her father's tales of strange creatures beyond Mossflower. She was a mink, a dark furred beast, lean like a weasel but able to swim as well as any otter. Sitting on her throne, the female glanced down at the creatures below her. A simple crown of gold rested on her dark furred head and she wore robes of scarlet.

"Vas is das?" she said slowly, gazing at each creature in turn. "Hunter, vat did I tell you about gypsies and vayfarers? I vant your hounds to dispose of zem."

Hunter bowed deeply to the mink. "My beagles have sniffed out virtually all of the gypsy foxes, Queen Tarza. These are not local creatures. They come from the south lands across the sea. They have business they wish to discuss with you." The dog bowed deeply again, stepping aside.

"Vot business do you haff, fox? Speak quick! You already test my patience." The mink snapped pulling herself up regally.

"Your Majesty," Nicara began, trying not to tremble, "I am Lady Nicara from the house of Jallgo. We have sailed from the southern lands below Mossflower country following information that the Rifguard house lies empty. I bring a strong fighting force and riches from my corsairs. I have many ships loyal to me and wish to purchase a title so that I may join your circles here in the Empire. I wish to make alliances, not enemies."

Queen Tarza laughed at the statement. "A fox vants a title in dis empire? You are either very cunning or mad." She was about to continue when four beagles stormed into the throne room carrying some mangled fur and flesh between them.

One of the mink chamberlains tried to block them, protesting. Raising a paw, Queen Taraz bid them enter. "Let zem come, their timing could not haf been better." She grinned darkly, nodding to the beagles.

The leader of the group nodded respectfully to Hunter, then to his queen. "We caught the outlaw Retter just as you ordered, Queen Taraz."

The beagles dropped the mangled and bloodied body of what had once been a fox dressed in a forest green jerkin on the floor. The blood-matted fur intertwined with ripped fabric til the beast on the floor looked more like a rag doll then anything that once lived free. Nicara couldn't help but gasp at the brutality inflicted on the creature. Both hind legs were broken, one almost torn away. A thin cord was wrapped around his neck, cutting deep into the flesh where it appeared to both have cut and broken the fox's neck.

"I vas hoping to get him back alive," the queen said with a sigh. "Oh, vell. Stick his remains on a pike outside the castle valls. Any other farmers think they can steal from me vill learn othervise."

The body of the creature was bourne away, leaving a bloody puddle on the floor. "If you haff nothing else for me, clean this mess up."

The beagle shook his head. "Oh no, Your Majesty, we caught the poacher fishing from your rivers. Shall we bring him in?"

"You haff not killed him?" the mink asked with a dark smile.

"Oh no, My Queen. Thought you would want words with him." Giving a bark, the other beagles returned, dragging a bruised and battered but still living otter. Throwing him at the feet of Queen Taraz's throne, the creature began speaking in a language the woodland vermin couldn't understand. They didn't need to understand the conversation between otter and mink Queen to know the creature was begging for his life, but no mercy would come from Taraz. With a nod to her hounds, the beagles fell upon the helpless creature. Armed with their teeth and small clubs which they carried, they fell upon the otter, the sound of barking mingled with the chilling sound of breaking bones. Within moments the otter was dead.

"Another scarecrow for my castle," the mink said with a grin. "Hunter, see dis mess is cleaned up."

Bowing low, Hunter engaged the assistance of his other dogs to clean the mess from the murder.

"As you can see, I need only give the vord and all you creatures vill die." the mink said darkly to Nicara. "I am not a creature of charity, Lady Nicara. Go back to your boats and if you can get a title perhaps ve vill meet again. Although I doubt it."

The guards surrounded Nicara and her party, escorting them out of the throne room.

**A.N**

**Putting the authors note at the end this time because I didn't want to spoil anything. When I first wrote this chapter I was studying The Holy Roman Empire, so the land Nicara has stumbled upon has mildly been inspired by the HRE. As you can tell, I don't speak German, I barely speak English. Dialects were hard to type out, just try to imagine awesome Austro-Hungarian minks when you read this. I know some of you read this thinking: " Killy, these aren't cannon animals. What are you doing?" Well… I like minks they're kinda vicious and cool at the same time. I don't know if they are native to central and eastern Europe, but I didn't want Queen Tarza to be a ferret, stoat or weasel. As for the beagles, google the breed and its use and you'll soon see where I'm going with this. In my defense there is a dog mentioned in **_**Redwall**_**, although there are also horses, pigs and cows… but let's not get into that. **


	4. Chapter 4: A Celebration

**Chapter 4: A Celebration**

Salamandastron was abuzz with activity. The day had come for Oranna to take official control over the mountain; the feasting and celebrations would carry on for days if not weeks afterwards. The kitchen staff welcomed any volunteers who could boil water, to assist in the preparations of food. The entire runner core had been recruited for dish duty, much to their disappointment. Any hare requiring adjustments to dress uniforms had reported weeks ago in anticipation of this event, and the tailors were still catching up, making sure all the hares were properly outfitted for the big day. Medals, blades, and belt buckles were all shined to perfection. The spare dormitories were filled with visiting dignitaries and guests. Any retired Long Patrol hares living off the mountain were invited to the ceremony. As result the officers mess rang with several off key, and off coloured ballads, recounting the adventures of older generations.

The parade grounds were crowded with hares as the regimental band ran through one last practice with the marchers. The Sergeant Major had lost his voice days ago, trying to get those selected to march in the parade in order.

Lady Emerlan as mother and former regent of Salamandastron, was helping her daughter prepare for the events. In the high chambers of the forge, Oranna looked tensely at the private chamber reserved for the badger ruler.

"Go inside," her mother encouraged. "That place is yours alone now. I cannot enter there."

"I suppose it's too late to back out now," the badgermaid sighed. "I don't even have a title yet."

"You will, all will be known soon enough. Go inside. See for yourself what lies within." Before Oranna could protest, her mother turned and left her alone.

Approaching the entryway, Oranna took a deep breath and struggled to move the massive door. She was amazed at her own strength as the door shifted in her grasp and rolled aside. The act stirred up a cloud of dust that floated about the mysterious room. Stepping within the space, she gazed around in awe. Little light filtered in from the passage outside, so she lit the torches waiting in their sconces; the crackling flames let off a strange, sweet smell. Arcane carvings lined the walls, telling the long history of the mountain. As Oranna followed the carvings, she was shocked to find images depicting her father, his time on the mountain and his untimely death. Then, perhaps most shocking of all, images of herself. The ornate tombs of the long dead ancient badger rulers seemed to welcome her rather than frighten her. Sitting on the stone seat, she watched the smoke and light from the sconces dance around the austere chamber. Deeply inhaling of the pungent smoke, she relaxed in her chair. "Alright, you have me now."

….

Later that morning, Lady Emerlan was helping decorate the dining hall for the feast which would follow the ceremony. She had recruited several young leverets who'd been getting in their parent's way to assist her. The little ones meant well, although they managed to cause more mischief then good. "Alright now, young 'uns, I need tablecloths on all the tables and places set for all the guests."

"But that will take jolly well for evah!" complained one particularly small leveret.

"That's why there are so many of us to do the job. Come along, little ones, get to work and I'll see to it the cooks make a special treat just for you."

Smiling, the old badger watched the little creatures get to work in true military fashion. The promise of a treat had brought about a change of heart.

Colonel Hardan, sporting full regalia, marched smartly into the dining hall with two mice walking behind him. "Ah, Lady Emerlan, allow me to introduce our two guests, all the way from Redwall Abbey. This chap is Troth, Warrior of Redwall, and this delightful gel is Sister Prudence."

The Warrior mouse made a slight bow to the badger. He was a young capable looking mouse, the fabled sword of Martin belted to his side. "Abbot Werth wishes he could be present, but unfortunately cannot leave Redwall at the moment."

Emerlan smiled, nodding to Troth. "Well, he honours us with Redwall's Champion and the blade of Martin. What more could we ask for?"

The pretty mousemaid Sister Prudence strode forward. "Oh, but it is such an honour to be invited here for this occasion. Salamandastron is the most magnificent thing I've ever seen."

The old badger laughed lightly. "I'm sure many of the hares here would argue that Redwall Abbey is a finer place by far, but thank you."

Out of the kitchens came Peony, carrying a basked laden with clean silverware. Behind her toddled the two little leverets Littia and Blyth.

"Just the gel I was looking for." Hardan caught hold of Peony before she could even set her load down.

"Steady on, Colonel Sah. I've got to get all the silverware out or nobeast will have anything to bally well eat with," Peony protested.

"Peony, come meet our visitors from Redwall. They bring word of you sister." Relieving her of her basket, he gently pushed her toward the two mice.

"So you are the Peony that Betony speaks so highly of," Sister Prudence said, withdrawing a paper note from the folds of her habit. "Your sister asked me to deliver this to you. I've always hoped I would get to meet you. She tells the most wonderful stories, mostly to get the dibbuns to bed but us older ones can't help but listen to them as well."

Peony accepted the letter gratefully. "Thank you, Sister. I hope that you might take a letter back to her when you return."

"But, of course. May I take it those little angels are yours?" The mousemaid giggled softly, watching the two babes hide behind their mother's legs, shy around these new strangers.

"Oh, don't mind them. They will hide away now, but by next season they won't stop talking. With any luck Betony will get to meet them for herself before they are much older. Now forgive me, but I really must get back to the kitchens. Lots of work to be done before this evening."

"Right you are, old gel. Come along, Troth old chap, and you too, Sister. I'll show you to your chambers." Hardan led the guests out of the dining hall, letting the others return to their duties.

….

All hares and visitors gathered outside on the parade grounds to watch the festivities unfold. A full colour guard marched the grounds as the band played, carrying the banners of each Long Patrol regiment. Fluttering flags of various hues and designs flew proudly from their poles. Each bore unique symbols: boxing hares, runners, long bows, oak trees, and other plants and weapons far too numerous to name, each flapping in the evening breeze. The highest standard of all was the pennant green banner with the white mountain symbolizing Salamandastron.

After the colour guard finished positioning their flags, the hares selected to march in parade strode out into the bright coastal sunshine. With poise and grace they moved like one creature around the perimeter of the parade ground, then reorganized themselves into intricate formations. It was both an impressive and fearsome display. The hares watching from the sidelines cheered for their comrades while the young leverets waved small versions of the Salamandastron standard.

Peony had been invited to march with the hares, but thought it better to look on with her daughters instead. Sitting on the sidelines with the two leverets and her mother, she pointed excitedly towards one particular marcher. "Look, it's Daddy! Let's wave at daddy."

Seeing their father marching with his fellow officers, the babes waved their little flags for all they were worth, excitedly trying to get Tutsan's attention. The Captain spotted his two little ones easily and, though trying stay serious while in formation, gave them a little wave as he passed by.

There was a resounding thunder of footpaws as the marchers came to a halt as one. The drums began again, and from within the mountain emerged Colonel Hardan, Lady Emerlan and Oranna. The badgermaid, who had not been seen all day, wore a robe of white clipped at her shoulder with a large iron clasp. This ornament she had found in the badger forge, presumably the property of a past Badger Lady. As soon as the regally adorned badgermaid appeared before her hares, every single creature young and old stood at attention, saluting. Oranna could feel tears welling up in her eyes even as pride swelled in her breast. An army of nearly one thousand hares stood before her, each and every one of them now looking to her for leadership. At first she didn't know what to do; then, without thinking, she bowed before the crowed and a roar of applause followed. Blushing deeply behind her stripes, she followed Hardan to stand on a flattened portion of the mountain overlooking the parade ground so that everybeast could see her. It was on this outcrop that many badgers before her had accepted the title of ruler of Salamandastron.

Speaking loudly so that all hares could hear, the Colonel spoke. "Who pray stands before me and all of Salamandastron?"

Replying with newfound volume, Oranna spoke. "It is I, Your Lady Oranna the Enduring."

Such a loud cheer arose from the assembled creatures that Hardan had to hold up a paw to silence them.

"And do you swear to serve and protect Salamandaston, to rule her wisely and justly?"

Oranna needed no time to think of her answer. "As long as there is breath in my body, I will protect her. As long as there are hares to follow me and vermin to wipe out, I will be here. I am as much her servant as you are, and together a bright new future awaits us."

Lady Emerlyn produced her hankerchief and wiped her eyes softly.

Hardan smiled and in a lower tone whispered, "Then let me show you your troops."

He led Oranna down to the waiting parade grounds, where she held her first official inspection of the Long Patrol, although on this day it was mostly paw-shaking and congratulations.

Some time later, with her paw nearly worn, off she sighed lightheartedly and bent to whisper in the Colonel's ear. "Haven't I done enough of this pomp and circumstance, can't we go eat now?"

"Capital idea, M'Lady!" the old hare agreed with a grin. He went to pass the word around to the other officers to get all hares and guests inside for the feast portion of the celebrations.

…..

Never in her life had Oranna seen so much food. Sitting at the head table, she sighed as the servers pushed more and more food her way.

"M'Lady, you have to taste this apple and pear pie! It's absolutely spiffin'!"

"Shall I top off your Mountain ale for you, Lady Oranna?"

"Haven't had any of the mushroom and cheese bake, I see. I shall go get you some, wot?"

"Try some of the cherry cake, they made it just for you. But be mindful the cook may have added a little too much elderberry sherry to the mix."

Thanking the servers for their unending attentions, she tried to send them away. "Thank you for everything. But I'm sure you want to enjoy all this fare before your comrades finish it off. Please go enjoy yourselves. This badger can fend for herself."

Once they had departed, Oranna began dividing the mountain of food in front of her between her officers. "Brea, will you please take this salad? Here, Colonel, another slice of that cherry cake you are so fond of. Aubery, I see you eyeing the apple and pear pie but you may have to fight Bloomberry for it. Please take this away, I don't even want to see another morsel of food."

Needing no second bidding, her officers soon cleared off her overladen plate.

Blodwen the healer, was going from table to table with a long sheet of parchment and quill. Approaching the head table she set the parchment down. "Any of you fancy putting your names in for the boxing matches?"

Several hares put up their paws and Blodwen added them to the list. "How about you, Troth? Care to show some of our chaps how a Redwall warrior does it?"

The Warrior mouse looked up from the fruit crumble he had been enjoying, the question catching him by surprise. "I don't really know anything about boxing, I'm afraid."

There was a groan of disappointment from the other hares.

Blodwen offered a solution. "I've been told you're quite the swordsmouse. Perhaps a display of blade skills against one of our own blade masters, wot? A mock duel would be jolly well entertaining, especially with a creature of your skill."

The Warrior mouse considered for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose there is no harm in it."

This response was greeted with much excitement from the officers table.  
"But who will Troth compete against?" Oranna asked, knowing there would be many volunteers.

As expected, many names were called out and paws raised, vying for the honour. Oranna shook her head. "No, no, we cannot have our guest fighting all night. I will choose. It's a pity Major Bernard is away on patrol; he's a perilous swordsbeast." The Badger Lady thought a moment, pondering who would best represent Salamandastron in this contest. "Lieutenant Brea," she said at last, "perhaps you would like to do the honours? You are quite skilled with the saber."

Brea looked up from his tankard of mountain beer. "Me, M'lady? Surely some other beast is better suited to the honour then I, wot? 'sides, I don't fancy getting carved in half by a Warrior mouse wielding the jolly sword of Martin."

Tutsan patted his Lieutenant heartilly on the back. "Nonsense, old chap! You're the best blade swinger we've got. You should go show the lot of them what you're made of. Go on now, that's the ticket."

Gulping nervously, Brea glanced about. "Right now?"

Troth stood from the table. "I'm ready, if Lady Oranna wishes it."

Oranna nodded, motioning for Brea to go ahead. "No time like the present." Standing from her seat, she loudly clinked her tankard with her knife to get the attention of the other hares. When that didn't work she looked to her officers, who in unison filled the room with a loud "'TENTION!"

All eyes went to Lady Oranna. "To start of the festivities for the evening, our visitor from Redwall Abbey has graciously offered to demonstrate some of his sword skills. The Redwall Champion Troth is going to do a little mock duel with our very own Lieutenant Brea. First beast to disarm the other wins."

There was a round of applause as the two creatures made their way to the center of the mess hall. The space had been left clear for the evening's entertainment, which left the two creatures ample room to show off their skills.

Drawing their blades, they bowed first to Lady Oranna and then to each other. Each showing great skill with their blades, they engaged, a resounding clang of metal on metal filling the hall as the two blades met. Circling, the pair made a little show of the event, making long deliberate thrusts and parries. Many times it appeared one or the other were within inches of losing an ear tip or a whisker, but both hare and mouse knew exactly what they were doing and were in no danger. Brea was the first to attempt to disarm Troth, but found the Warrior mouse a difficult adversary to trick or catch off guard. Troth in turn found the quickness of Brea's blade hard to outwit. The hare was born to be a fencer; his quick pawsteps and elegant moves were both impressive and deadly, but eventually they succumbed to the Warrior mouse. The loud clang of Brea's saber on the stone floor was met by a long silence from the watching creatures, then roars of cheering for Redwall's Champion.

Collecting his blade, Brea left Troth to his new fans, all eager to hear more from the fighting mouse. Settling back into his seat, the swordshare found Tutsan filling his beaker with Mountain ale.

"Good sport you are, Brea, letting that Troth fellow win like that. Very hospitable of you, wot."

Taking a drink of his ale, the lieutenant shook his head. "Wish I could say I let him win, Tutsan. No, that mouse defeated me fair and square. Would've taken my flipping paw off if I tried to keep the blade."

After the display of blades, there was a call for more events. Corporal Blodwen had taken all the names she assembled and put them in an empty breadbasket. She brought the runner Levkin with her to the front of the mess hall.

"You all know how this works," the healer called out. "When your names is called, step forward. And keep it all in good clean fun. I'm not putting any of you laddos back together this evening, wot."

Levkin had the duty of drawing names for the matches. Dipping one paw into the basket, he used the other to cover his eyes and picked out a scrap of parchment and gave it to Blodwen.

"Lieutenant Aubery Linwood, please come forward."

Aubery needed no second bidding, bounding up from his seat and throwing a few punches into the air for dramatic effect.

Levkin pulled out a second name and passed it to Blodwen. The female hare regarded it for a moment in disbelief, then called out the name. "Um… This is highly unusual. Peony Linwood."

Tutsan looked to his wife, completely caught off guard. "I didn't even see you put your name in."

Rising from her seat, Peony moved to meet Aubery. "Oh, I asked Blodwen to add my name earlier today. I thought it would be a bit of fun. I didn't think I would actually get in."

Aubery nervously stood in the middle of the mess hall, protesting. "This is hardly appropriate, wot. I mean, she is my bally sister-in-law. If I bruise her pretty face I'll never forgive myself. Not to mention Tutsan'll rip my flipping ears off."

Peony pouted playfully. "I didn't think you of all hares would be scared of little ole me. Although there was that time when we were youngsters, and I broke your nose. Sorry about that, old lad. I'll be sure to go easier on you this time. But if you're too scared, I'm sure one of the other chaps will gladly challenge me."

Frowning, Aubery continued his protest, his voice becoming shriller. "I'm not scared, Peony! Colonel, there has to be some rule against this. She's a mother of two, for the love of fur."

From his seat Hardan tried not to laugh. "There is no rule h'against it, if Peony is willing. Ye can either accept the challenge or let another take yer turn."

Peony had already taken up a boxing stance. Reluctantly, Aubery threw off his dress tunic and joined her. They circled each other, neither throwing punches but paws up at the ready.

"Well, I suppose it ought to be ladies first," Aubery suggested, bobbing back slightly.

At this suggestion, Peony's right paw shot forward, hitting Aubery full on in the face and causing him to bowl over.

Clutching his battered snout, Aubery lay on the floor, trying to get back up. Blood could be seen coming from his nose, and Blodwen instinctively offered a kerchief to stop the bleeding.

"Why dib you go fer de face?" Aubery mumbled though his bloodied nose.

"You were supposed to put your paws up," Peony answered unsympathetically.

"So dis is my fauld? Oh, dis is absolutely de bally limid." Getting up, he wiped his nose, which had taken on a purple colour and was quite swollen. Retsuming his fighting stance, he returned to the ring. He sent a punch towards Peony's face, but she neatly blocked it.

"See, Aubery, that's how you do it." Smirking wickedly, she left hooked him in the chest.

Nearly winded, Aubery backed off and waited for Peony to come to him. However, Peony wasn't new to the sport of hare boxing; she knew if she went after him he could land a blow of his own, so she moved slowly towards him, forcing Aubery to move to her on her terms. She let him get one hit in on her, a half-hearted tap to her side. She scolded him for patronizing her by clipping his jaw. Aubery got the message and left hooked his sister-in-law, wincing as much as she did when the paw connected with fur. Once Aubery relaxed, realizing that the odds were more in Peony's favour, he put up a fair fight, ducking and weaving as the two competitors exchanged hard hits. After one final hit to his shoulder, Aubery shook his head and put his paws up. He knew when he had had enough; much more of this and Peony would lay him out flat.

Feeling slightly emasculated, the Lieutenant returned to his seat, nursing his broken nose and various other bruises.

Levkin then chose the next boxer to face Peony. Blodwen went to see to Aubery's broken nose and allowed the runner to call out the name.

"Captain Bloomberry," he shouted as loud as his lungs would allow.

Needing no second bidding, Bloomberry went forward.

"You're not going to complain too, I hope," Peony said, discarding her tunic. She gotten too warm during her bout with Aubery.

"No such luck, old gel. Apologies ahead of time and all that rot." Throwing her own tunic aside, Bloomberry didn't wait for the fight to be called before the two went at it.

Tutsan cheered on his wife from the head table. Glancing over, he noticed several slackjawed bachelor hares watching the match, and frowned. Next to him sat Aubery with a large bandage over his nose, chin propped up in his paws as he watched the fighting females. Nudging him roughly, Tutsan reminded his brother, "She's married, I'll have ye know."

Wincing, Aubery rubbed his side. "Nod da one I'm looken ad."

Tutsan returned to watching the two females, down to the simple white under shirts they wore under their uniforms and sweating heavily from their exertions. Out of the entire mess hall, Tutsan was the only male not enjoying the display.

Getting knocked off guard, Peony fell to the floor.

"Are you all right, Peony?" her friend and opponent asked with great concern.

"I've had enough for one evening, Bloom. Go knock the ears off some other beast." Waving her paw, she yielded.

Returning to her seat next to her husband, she took a deep drink of spring water. Seeing Tutsan, she became confused. "What's wrong with you? Bloomberry won fair, and I wasn't about to stay and get my jolly pelt boxed off."

Aubery, who had finally regained proper speech, shook his head. "He thinks all the chaps were gawking at you."

"Well, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. All eyes were on Bloomberry, except for yours of course, m'dear," she laughed, pouring herself some more water.

Tutsan still wasn't sure. "Really. I'm sure I saw a few scoundrels passing glances at you."

Nearly choking on her water, she laughed again. "On me? Goodness no. I was up there, Tutsan. All eyes were on Bloomberry, and no wonder either, a pretty single gel like that. There is a reason pretty haremaids know how to box. So you chaps shouldn't be getting your hopes up about Bloomberry."

Seeing that little Letti and Blyth had drifted off to sleep, Peony excused herself from the table once again. "I best be getting these little ones off to bed. 'poligies about your nose, Aubery." 


	5. Chapter 5: Hell hath no fury…

**No I didn't forget about this fic. Big big thank you to mr. Highwing for making this story readable. Be good little boys and girls and go read his fics, they are fantastic. **

Chapter 4: Hell hath no fury…  
Nicara was in foul spirits. Nothing was going as planned. The strange mink Queen proved to be quite the hardliner. Nobeast dismissed Nicara the Vixen with such harsh words. Brooding, lost in her dark thoughts, Nicara pondered new and terrifying ways to dispatch of the mink, yet the cruelty she had witnessed stayed with her. The crews had assembled a makeshift camp on the beach, tents had been erected for lodgings, and scavenging parties returned with seabirds and fresh water, a feast to be sure after many days at sea. Nicara sat in her tent, mulling over the maps and charts Bittail had provided. She allowed her temper to boil, as she drank from her rich wine stores.

Outside, Vaniska nervously avoided his new bride. Huddled outside the tent they were supposed to be sharing, he listened to the grumblings of the vixen within. His longtime companion Wayta came along, carrying a worn tin bowl containing grizzly bits of seabird. It was all he could scrounge from the returned foraging party.

"You alright there, Chief?" he asked, passing over the meager food.

"Aye," Vaniska replied half heartedly. The food remained ignored, as the would-be warlord was lost in his state of melancholy.

Konnel strode over from where he had been comfortably enjoying food and wine with Bittail and the corsairs. Wayta couldn't help but notice that the foxes and corsairs from Jallgo's old settlement were eating far better than Vaniska's band. They even had a roaring bonfire on the beach to keep them warm and raise spirits. Vaniska's band, however, was ignored and pushed aside from the other vermin. Konnel cared little for this wayfaring band of vagabonds. He cast the two younger foxes a look of contempt as he pushed aside the tent flap to join Nicara within.

"Hey, now, what are you up to?" Wayta couldn't hide a growl in his voice. True, Vaniska wasn't as clever as most foxes, but he didn't care to see his friend brushed aside so carelessly.

"None of your business, whelp," sneered the silvery fox.

"What is going on out here?" The head of Nicara appeared from within the tent. She pushed passed Konnel, glaring at Wayta. This particular fox was immune to any charms she possessed, unlike his fire-starting little friend. Lessons may soon need to be taught, but given their current circumstances the vixen opted to delay any further demonstrations of power.

"Wayta, isn't it?" Her voice shifted to that of silky seduction.

Vaniska's second nodded. "Aye, M'lady, that be me name. Now tell me, why is it yer husband and 'is crew sit out here half starved while your dear departed Father's guard eats like a king and has free use of yer tent?" He hoped to rouse his friend into questioning this odd behavior. After all, Nicara was supposed to be Vaniska's wife, and surely that had to stand for something. To his disappointment, his friend remained downtrodden.

Noting the glum look of her new husband, Nicara couldn't help but visibly smile. "Half starved? Perish the thought. Mayhaps you should take your little band out to scout for additional fare. After all, that is what the corsairs did." Her voice carried a sweet tone. "As for Konnel, he is my most trusted guard. What with strange beasts and unknown lands, I do not wish to be slain. Go now, Vaniska - such adventures may perk your spirits. "

Wayta shot a glare in the vixen's direction, but knew better than to argue with her. She was not to be trusted, nor her silvery companion. "Up ye come, Chief, let us explore this country." He brought Vaniska to his paws, leading him away with low whispers. "Best be watching that 'un, mate."

Few seabirds could be seen on the shore; the corsairs had driven away any they hadn't been able to slay with sling or arrow. This meant that if Wayta or Vaniska wanted full bellies they would have to travel inland. Straying far from the cobbled path, the pair of foxes searched the dense forest hoping to come across some manner of songbird or wood pigeon. What they found was nothing but thick low-lying vegetation that made it difficult to walk. Trudging along, the pair found the ground below them soft, almost boggy.

"Best be cautious, mate. Don't want to slip down into the earth now," warned Wayta.

Heeding his companion's warning, Vaniska snapped a branch from a nearby dead tree. He prodded the earth with it, testing the ground before moving his paws. Catching onto Vaniska's lead, Wayta followed suit. It was apparent that the search for food was bleak in this place. Both foxes prodded along until they came upon trampled underbrush, a paw path of sorts. The trail appeared to be well worn by several travelers, and wheel tracks could be seen having dug deep into the marshy soil. Wayta strode on ahead, following the pawprints.

"Somebeasts moved out in a hurry," he remarked, using his branch to help him follow the route.

Vaniska hurried along behind his companion, minding his paws as he went. They roamed deeper into the woodlands until they came upon a land marker. Wayta spotted the wooden post but didn't bother to glance up at the sign. His focus was on the forest floor. A heavy paw fell upon his shoulder. Vaniska shook him to look up at the marker.

" 'ey now, mate, can't ye see I'm following the tracks." At the persistence he raised his gaze to the notice. His homeland was riddled with such signs, wooden boards painted to point out landmarks, or offer warnings to travelers. Never in his seasons had Wayta seen such a sign. The language was foreign to him, but the meaning was clear. Three tattered fox tails were nailed below the unknown words, blood red images depicting foxed being hanged at the gallows.

"Iz varning," a voice from behind announced. Both foxes turned to see an oddly clad vixen standing directly behind them. Her blouse was a red far more brilliant than her fur, and the skirts she wore were a patchwork of brightly coloured fabrics with large floral patterns. Upon her head was a purple head scarf, partially obstructing her maiden face. "Foxez iz not safe hereboutz," she spoke again in urgent tones.

"Who are you?" Wayta asked, stepping closer to the mysterious yet beautiful vixen.

"Hush ..." she hissed, pressing claw to lips. " Not zafe. Houndz." Her ears twitched, straining to pick up even the slightest sound of the foe.

"They did this?" Vaniska pointed to the tails on the board. Did the cruelty of this empire know no bounds?

The strange vixen nodded, pressing claw to lips with all more urgency. "Pleaze. Quiet." With a wave of her paw she bid them follow her in the opposite direction of the trail.

It soon became very clear to the pair of foxes that the beasts laying this track had set it up to be a diversion. For a ways off, they were greeted to the site of a small camp. Roughly ten foxes, all dressed in the bright strange garb, huddled around a small camp fire roasting fish and drinking strong wine. Cautious eyes turned to regard the newcomers. The vixen wasted no time in ushering the pair towards the fire, wordlessly ordering them to take a seat alongside an elderly fox smoking from a long stem bone pipe. Great puffs of smoke emerged as the elder conversed with the young vixen. As the language was unknown to them, they turned their attention to the other foxes, eyeing the slings and knives they carried in their belts.

"My Father vants to know if you beastz came on da shipz?" the brightly garbed fox maid asked.

Vaniska nodded. " Aye, we did, from south of Mossflower country."

To this the elderly fox's face lit up with a toothless grin. "Mozzflowah!" he hissed, pressing the pipe to his lips once more.

Wayta leaned in closer to the curious vixen. "Why is Queen Tarza sending those beasts after you?"

The vixen tossed another log on the fire and poured each of them beakers of strong wine. Not being the sort to refuse such fare they drank deeply, savoring the odd taste so unlike the drink from their native land.

" Dis story begins two seasonz bak, ven Tarza come to power. Her Fadder bring de Beaglez to dis land as great warriorz. Fadder diez, crown goes to brudder, great mink called Tarka. Fierce and mighty, but great threat to Tarza. Zo, she get fox to kill brudder vit poizen, but, fox great friend to Tarka. Not kill brudder, mix poizen in drink of Tarza's mate. Queen go mad, kill brudder, and kill all fox. Now ve must go. Ve go to landz of Fredik, 'tis far safer fer da likez o' uz. You best follow if you vish to liv."

There was great pain in her voice. The other foxes seemed to share this terror. Wayta had only seen a sample of Tarza's cruelty, and he feared the full force of it stretched beyond imagination. Glancing to Vaniska, he tried to gauge his friend's reaction. Vaniska could only sit wide-eyed, staring at the flames of the fire. It was clear he was shaken by what they had witnessed and heard.

"We must warn Nicara, make haste to find this Fredik beast. Can we reach this place by sea?" Vaniska spoke up after a long moment in his own thoughts.

The young vixen nodded excitedly. "Much much fazta zat way. Ve show you da vay dere."

Her father cocked his ears, and in their own language the young vixen rapidly explained to all. There were murmurs of agreement throughout the small camp.

Wayta couldn't help but grin at the pleasant expression on the vixen's face. How her mood had so rapidly changed. "What is your name?" he asked softly.

"Yeevada," came the reply with the softest of smiles.

While the foxes packed to return to the ships, Wayta promised he would get to know the vixen better.


	6. Chapter 6: Oh Aubrey!

**A/N **

**Hello, me again. **

**Here is another chapter for your reading enjoyment. Last one for awhile, so enjoy it. Of course I would like to put a big thank you out to Highwing for editing this chapter for me. Please pop over and check out his Redwall fics, I'm sure you will find those enjoyable. Also, let me not forget to thank all those who have kindly reviewed this story. I do appreciate feedback, along with constructive criticism, or even suggestions. I do try to take the time to reply to every review given, so please leave a comment. Or if you would rather not leave a comment for all to see, feel free to send me a quick PM letting me know what you think. ( A certain Killy does have a birthday coming up, and reviews make awesome birthday gifts.) **

Chapter 6: Oh Aubrey

Aubrey Linwood swaggered up the stairs towards his chambers, an herb poultice strapped over his nose, which had greatly reduced the swelling. Regardless of previous injury, the Lieutenant was feeling no pain. In a rather off key tone he sang snippets of a ballad.

"The gel who has me heart is a beast beyond compare,  
She's as dainty as a daisy, an' her fur is light and fair.  
Yet, if I jolly well approach her, O' alas, an' O' alack,  
Me true-love's right hook is 'bound to land me on me back."

Mumbling the rest of the lines, he pushed open the door to his room, finding his roommate Brea still awake. The muscular hare was stretched out on his bed, writing on a small slip of parchment by candle light.

"Keep that hooting and squawking ye call singing down, old chap. Last thing you needs is the bally Colonel chucking you in the guardhouse for such a din, wot." Brea finished with his writing, folding the parchment into a neat little square and using the wax from his candle to seal it.

Aubrey shrugged off his dress uniform, draping it casually over one of the posts on his bed. He unwrapped the bandage from his face, checking his nose tenderly and all the while pestering his roommate.

"Away with ye, Brea. Ole Hardan t'aint going to do one flippin thing about me warbling. He's down in the mess, still dancing away as though he were a chap o' far younger seasons. Ye should see him, Brea, twirling and whirling about the floor, dancing with all the pretty ladies. Never thought I would see such a spot-on little scuff as that, wot wot." Aubrey laughed, settling into his bed on the wall across from Brea's. Fluffing up his pillow, he nodded towards the letter his roommate so carefully set aside.

"Wot's that then, a bally love poem for pretty young thingamy? Say, ole chum, why are you not downstairs wooing pretty miss whatsername? I rather thought she was making eyes at you during that jolly little show of blades you put on for the chaps."

"Writing bally love poems? Really? No, chap, penning a far more mundane script, y'see. Letter to dear mater, dontcha know, she likes to know what sorta perilous things I'm getting up to. Worries so, she does, I try to keep in touch." Brea shook his head, settling back into his bed and blowing out the candle. "D'ye really think Mayweed fancies me?"

Aubrey rolled over, pulling his bed quilt up to his chin. "I dunno, Brea, how abouts you pop down t'the mess an' find out for yerself, wot. Off ye go, there's a good chap. Give 'er the jolly ole Brea charm, wot."

"Oh, ye make it sound so easy there, laddie buck. " He paused, as if considering his friend's suggestion. "Nah, I couldn't. 'sides, it's off again at first light. Hunting for those scummy vermin and the like. Full score o' hares under my own command, isn't that bally spiffy? Turns out yer brother put in a good word with her Ladyship. Hardan says I may even make Captain before winter, and here I was naught but a sergeant last season. Now isn't that absolute top hole news, wot?"

"Absoballylutely." Aubrey huffed under his breath, rolling to face the wall and pulling the quilt up over his ears. While the pair had been friends since they were small, there was a pang of jealousy at the thought of Brea ascending though the ranks so rapidly.


	7. Chapter 7: The Lands of Fredik

**A/N: Thanks for the birthday greetings. Here is another, slightly longer chapter. This one fills me with happy, in part due to it featuring Killy, but also because it contains my favourite broadside ballad. I suppose I could have written my own song for this chapter, but I decided to include Maid on the Shore, because I loves it!**

**Again big thanks to Highwing, for reading and editing. Another big thanks to Sporky for taking the time to comment on every chapter. **

Chapter 7: The Lands of Fredik.

Nicara did not like to turn tail and run. When her mate returned with the ragtag band of foxes, word of this beast named Fredik spread. Even Konnel seemed swayed by the tales told by this mysterious, oddly garbed vixen. Captain Bittail was most enthusiastic about setting sail for these new lands; his crew was most shaken by what they had witnessed. The corsairs had little interest camping along the shore - not with Tarza's army of rats and hounds able to come upon them at any moment. It would appear only Nicara remained determined to stay. As they packed the boats up to leave, she swore to remember how quickly those whom she counted as advisors tucked tails between their legs and fled.

These lands of Fredik were not far from the terrifying domain of Queen Tarza. It would be a voyage of only two days, promised Yeevada the vixen, which caused Nicara to wrinkle up her nose; what would a gypsy creature know of sea faring? Further vexing was the way this brightly garbed creature weaved a sort of magic over the corsair crew. On deck, while crewbeasts hauled aboard supplies and set the rigging, the foxes played a hypnotic tune with their hand drums and ringing small bells. Yeevada danced amid the working crew. Her brightly coloured skirts swirled as she moved in ways most unfamiliar to the corsairs. Her laughter was as sweet as the tiny bells wrapped about her paws; it seemed every step she took carried the tinkling of bells. Vaniska and Wayta appeared to be enchanted by her, but this concerned Nicara little. Both were weak, and ill-bred; such distractions were to be expected. However, the look in Konnel's eyes caused the vixen's blood to run cold. The little dancer was quickly outliving her usefulness.

Bittail the searat captain took the tiller, anxious to put the lands of Tarza behind him. "We'll be sailing inter far kinder waters ,m'lady. Ye'll see, so ye will," he called to Nicara.

The vixen was still not convinced. Leaning against the railings, she wrapped a heavy travel cloak about her. Although still autumn season, the wind over the water was as cold as it might be in the winter. Nicara was not accustomed to this sort of climate. One of the gypsy foxes approached, offering a small metal tankard of dark wine. She knew better than to accept drink from strange beasts. Nicara was under no illusions; they might seem like innocent travelers, but such thinking allowed poison to pass lips. Drawing her cloak tighter around her, she shooed the fox away, refusing his offering.

"'tis naught but vine, to varm the spiritz, mistrezz," the heavily-accented yet sweet voice of Yeevada came from behind. Nicara nearly jumped with fright, not having noticed the young vixen leaving the dance to join her by the railing.

"I care not for your wine." Her words were sharp, in line with her temper. "I don't know what you foxes are after, but consider yourselves lucky we have agreed to take you aboard our ship. I care not for your silly dances or drink. You can keep that business to yourselves." Her eyes fell upon the young vixen. She didn't appear to be a threat; she was a ragtag, half starved creature. Still, Nicara felt threatened by her presence. "Vaniska!" she shouted, seeking out her husband.

Vaniska popped his head up from where he had been coiling ropes. " Aye, M'lady?" he squeaked.

"Grab Konnal and attend in the for'ard cabin. We have much to discuss, in preparation for when we land." Nicara cast a grin to Yeevada, slinking past her to hold conference with her guard and husband.

Once Nicara was out of earshot, Wayta made his way over to the pretty young vixen. "Don't mind her, missie, 'er Ladyship dislikes most everybeast. I know yer mate was only trying to be friendly to her. Ye best be watching out for her, though - she can be dangerous if she doesn't take a liking to you." He couldn't see why Nicara would take so coldly to the little band of foxes, but he was determined to see no harm come to Yeevada.

"You are too kind, Vayta." The young vixen smiled sweetly, leaning against the rail to look out far to sea. "Von't be much longer, an' ve vill all be free creatures again." Her voice, like the tinkling of bells, enchanted the usually rough fox. He nodded, following her line of sight.

"Aye, 'twill be good for ye not to live in fear of those hounds."

***  
Far to the west, beyond where the sun set, lay the island of Sampetra. The land of eternal summer, once ruled by the madeyed pine marten, had long since returned to the paws of seafaring vermin. When Martin II, Warrior of Redwall, came to the island to take back the stolen Abbot, he burned the ships and timber, believing the vermin to be stranded. But at the time of that great battle, not all of the ships had been accounted for. With time, more corsairs and searats came, the flesh eating lizards were wiped out and the island became a comfortable berth for corsairs once more.

Bogbean the weasel boson tossed The Nixie's head-rope over to the awaiting searats at the jetty. Once the ship was secure, the crew eagerly departed, anxious to lounge on the beaches of Sampetra, drinking seaweed grog before heading back to their cold home port of Vinland. Jack the searat did a hasty head count as each beast departed. Reginald was the only crew member not excited about docking at the fabled Sampetra. The heat did not agree with the dapper fox. Fanning his whiskers, he looked down with disdain at the creatures milling about the jetty.

"Must we all disembark, Jack?" The fox felt the silk neck scarf sticking to him from the heat. His face was the picture of displeasure.

Jack had never met a creature who didn't enjoy Sampetra. "Well, b'ye, if ye don't want t'go ashore I can't make ye. 'owever, once we sell this 'ere cargo, then there'll be vittles and drink aplenty at the taverns just up from the beach. Yer welcome to come along, o'course. "

"An' yer welcome to stay there, too," sniggered Bogbean.

"Come on, Boggy, be nice the once, will ye." Jack wasn't overly fond of the fox, but he didn't want such talk amongst the crew. Captain Killicia strolled out of her cabin, joining the three on deck. The young ferret Captain was adorned in a faded purple dress that was too big for her slight frame. In order to make it fit she tied a broad red sash about her middle, and hacked away at the bottom, creating what she thought to be a stylish angle. The sleeves of the gown slid down her shoulders with every step she made. A proud grin was plastered across her face as she swayed her hips, twirling and waving to the slack-jawed corsairs.

"So…What 'cha think?" Killicia made another twirl on the deck; as she did so, bits of the cut-up garment fluttered on the breeze.

Jack shook his head. "What's all this, be a circus in town?" Pointing a claw towards the Captain's cabin, he lectured the young ferret. "Cap'n, there's a lovely blue coat and peachy coloured tunic yer fadder gave ye the season afore last. Go put that on. We can't have the Cap'n of the Nixie going into Sampetra looking as though she blew in on a hurricane. Go change, sharpish now."

With a grumble and mutterings of protest, the one legged ferret stomped off back to her quarters, the carved wooden leg making a loud thud with every step she took. Jack turned back to Bogbean, massaging his temples as he spoke. "I suppose I'll 'ave t'keep an eye on her again." Glancing back to the fox, he shrugged. "Listen buddy, stay 'ere or go ashore. I don't care what ye does. As ye can see, I have bigger troubles."

Once the barrels of fish were traded, as promised, there was enough gold and credit to buy well-deserved drinks and meals for all hands. Jack saw to it that each crew member got their fair share based on work served on board. The largest share was granted to Killicia as Captain, although Jack would only permit the ferretmaid a portion of the earnings to be used on the island. Next came shares for Jack and Bogbean, then the other crewmembers. Lastly, a small fraction of a share was granted to Reginald the fox, as he was last to join the crew and only accompanied them part of the voyage. Once debts and payments were squared away, the true wonders of the tropical isle could be enjoyed.  
There were two taverns dotting the Sampetra shoreline that the Nixie's crew frequented. If they were not found at The Rusty Gull, they were likely to be found swigging grog at Square-Rigger, or taking advantages of the inn contained within the grog house. Jack took turns alternating between the two, meeting up with old shipmates, and keeping an eye on the young ferret captain. Entering The Rusty Gull, he was greeted to the sounds of flutes, accordions, fiddles and the occasional beat of a bhoran. Searats from two different ships were engaged in a shanty competition, each group trying to out-sing the other. The lyrics became all the more gruesome as the verses went on. Tales of plundered otter holts, soon transformed into heavily embellished tales of otters, squirrels, or even full grown badger warriors carved into ribbons and fed to fish. To roars of applause and paws pounding on tables, the dreadful song came to its rowdy conclusion. A call came up from the assembled seavermin for more songs. Ever quick to oblige, Killicia clambered up onto one of the tavern tables. Her wooden limb stuck out at a rather unladylike angle as she tried not to trip up on her long coat. Setting her tankard of grog down upon the table, she held both paws aloft to gain the attention of everybeast. Jack slumped quietly onto the nearest bench, trying to blend in among the others assembled. Killicia had a flare for the dramatic, and while she was a fine little singer, he hoped she wouldn't make too much of a spectacle of herself. The ferretmaid seemed to care little as to how the other vermin may perceive her actions. She held a hushed conference with those who had brought along their instruments, and once the tune was agreed upon they struck up a lively ballad. Shedding her coat to provide free movement, she led the broadside ballad with theatrical charms. Wildly prancing about the table, she disrupted drinks and stepped on claws while acting out the tale.

"There is a young maiden who lives all alone  
She lives all alone on the shore-o  
There's nothing she can find to comfort her mind  
But to roam all alone on the shore shore shore  
But to roam all alone on the shore

"T'was of the young captain who sailed the salt sea  
Let the wind blow high, blow low-o  
'I will die, I will die,' the young captain did cry,  
'If I don't have that maid on the shore shore shore  
If I don't have that maid on the shore.'

"'Well I have lots of silver, I have lots of gold  
I have lots of costly wares-o  
I'll divide, I'll divide with my jolly ship's crew  
If they row me that maid on the shore shore shore  
If they row me that maid on the shore.'

"After much persuasion they got her aboard  
Let the wind blow high, blow low-o  
They replaced her away in his cabin below  
'Here's adieu to all sorrow and care care care  
Here's adieu to all sorrow and care.'

"They replaced her away in his cabin below  
Let the wind blow high, blow low-o  
She's so pretty and neat, she's so sweet and complete  
She sung captain and sailors to sleep sleep sleep  
She sung captain and sailors to sleep

"Then she robbed him of silver, she robbed him of gold  
She robbed him of costly wares-o  
Then took his broadsword instead of an oar  
And paddled away to the shore shore shore  
And paddled away to the shore

"'Well me crew must be crazy, me crew must be mad  
Me crew must deep in despair-o  
For to let you away from my cabin so gay  
And to paddle your way to the shore shore shore  
And paddle your way to the shore.'

"'Well your crew was not crazy, your crew was not mad  
Your crew was not deep in despair-o  
I deluded your sailors as well as yourself  
I'm a maiden again on the shore shore shore  
I'm a maiden again on the shore.'"

Bowing and curtsying, Killicia bent to scoop up her coat; in the process she tripped and fell headlong into the twin weasels. Jack stood abruptly, watching to be sure both shipmates aided their captain in getting right-side-up once more. From behind him came a gruff laugh.

"That be yer liddle whelp, Jacky?" a heavily tattooed searat with gold rings in his tattered ears and a patch over his left eye baited him. "Aye, see ye became a fine nursemaid fer old Swiftfang's brat. Fine reward for an ole shipmate, tho' that might be all ye was ever good fer."

"Ah, Grymclaw, me old messmate, Old Swiftfang do reward his friends an' sees to his enemies just as swiftly, don't 'e, b'ye. Sure, he grants me a cozy berth on 'is flag ship, an' a good cut o' any plunder we takes. Ye, 'owever, when ye double crossed him, what did 'e do? Plucked yer eye out and kicked ye and your slimy-hide crew out o' 'is fleet. " Jack grinned dangerously at the other rat, his paw straying to rest at the dagger in his belt.

Other searats and corsairs gathered around, expecting a fight to break out between the pair. Some took to the side of Grymclaw, calling out insults to Jack and the Nixie crew, whereas other came in defense of Jack.

"Youse t'aint real corsairs anyways, ye never plunder the big fat vessels."

"Aye, and the Nixie never sails into the fray, too busy making daisy chains, eh mates?"

" 'ey now, the Nixie and 'er crew could out-sail yer little dory in any storm. They ride the fierce waves of the North West seas, while ye stick around the warmer waters."

"Aye, an' dat Cap'n o' theirs may be young, but she ain't never 'ad a mutiny on 'er paws. "

Striding forwards, Grymclaw wrapped his paw around the hilt of his cutlass, boldly making to challenge Jack. "Don't need yer cowardly Swiftfang no more. I sail fer the fox Jallgo, I takes care o' his vessels far better than that blasted ferret ever did."

To this Jack laughed openly. The other assembled vermin looked upon him as though he had gone mad. "Ye haven't heard, then. Oh b'ys, oh b'ys, yer in for a treat. Jallgo is dead, whole port burned to ash, and any ships that were at port have set sail or gone to the bottom, hard to say. Tho' I suppose this is what ye always wanted, eh, Grym, not serving nobeast, sailing under yer own flag. 'course, this means ye have no financial backing, or fleet o' vessels t'protect ye any more. A real freebooter ye is now." Jack winked broadly at the rat.

Killicia crept up behind, giving Jack's tail a tug. She didn't like the look of the crowd, and didn't want any of her crew mixed up in what might become a deadly tavern brawl. "Come on, Jack, let's head on now. Up she comes."

Grymclaw sneered as Jack made to follow his captain. "Aye, run along, Jacky. Follow da liddle missie. Best be setting yer charge down fer her nap."

"Ignore the slimy wretch. Yer twice the rat he'll ever be," the ferretmaid hissed between her teeth as they left the tavern. The twin weasels followed behind, casting dirty looks to Grymclaw and his crew.

They met with the rest of the crew over at the Square-Rigger grog house. Bogbean hailed them, waving his tankard of drink so they would join him at his table. Seated on either side of the bosun were two female weasels. Jack noted that each wore an earring of silver, trinkets Bogbean had been holding onto for such a visit. With cautious eyes he looked them over, noting their mannerisms and style of dress. The twins seemed to take no mind and pulled up a stool each. Young Killicia was about to join in when Jack placed a paw on her shoulder, pulling her away.

"Come on, Jack, join us for a drink," Bogbean encouraged.

Jack eyed the female weasels and continued to pull the now-protesting captain away. "Naw, b'ye, ye have fun there. See you lot laters on."

The ferret grumbled darkly as she was lead away by the older searat. "I wanted to stay with those 'uns. Those ladies seemed nice. Why couldn't we stay?"

"I'll tell ye when yer older, now move along." Jack ignored the youth's rolling eyes and marched her from the tavern.

Irritated with her first mate, Killicia turned abruptly to stomp off, in the process nearly bowling over a ferret making his way into the grog house.

"Hold fast, matey, nearly set me off kilter," he laughed, steadying himself. Stooping down, he picked up a tri-cornered hat woven from grasses. Setting the hat back on his head, he winked roguishly towards her to show no harm had been done. As far as ferrets went, he could be counted among the handsome ones. His face was fairer, almost white, with slight golden markings under his eyes. The faintest detailing drew Killicia's gaze to his dark, almond shaped eyes. He held out a paw to her in greeting. "Name's Arker, Cap'n Arker o' The Sampetra Queen."

Grinning broadly, she accepted the paw, shaking it warmly. "Killicia Swiftfang, Captain of The Nixie."

Arker winked at her tipping his hat. "A Cap'n, ye don't say? Thought ye had the look o'command about ye." He pursed his lips in thought. "Yer the one they calls Killy, ain't ye."

"Aye, that be me." Killicia smiled at the handsome ferret, much to Jack's disapproval.

"We was just on our way," Jack interjected.

Nodding to the searat, Arker tipped his hat again. "You must be Jack. I heard about ye as well. Word is, if anybeast wants t'know miz Killy better, they has to get through ye first."

The old searat narrowed his eyes dangerously. Catching the glare, the ferret held his paws up defensively. "Never fear, matey, don't mean no harm t'the pretty Cap'n. Just being social like. I 'eard ye saying sommat about Jallgo. I used t'trade at dat port 'o his. Suppose I'll 'ave t'find new ports fer da ole Queen to land." He leaned towards Killicia, winking. "Mayhaps when the weather proves fair, I'll sail t'Vinland waters. Might run into yer ship out thata ways."

"Ye might just find me out there, Cap'n Arker. I looks forward to seeing The Sampetra Queen pull into our harbor some fine summer's day." Smiling as bright as the sunshine, she was abruptly hauled away by her first mate.

"What's that for?" she hissed, hop-skipping to keep from falling over.

"Shouldn't be talking to fellers like that, 'tis all," Jack huffed.

"What are ye, me nursemaid?" the indignant ferretmaid protested as she was hauled back to the Nixie. Casting a glance back to where she ran into Arker, she grinned, hoping he would one day sail towards Vinland.


	8. Chapter 8: A Job for Sister Prudence

**A/N Another big thank you to Highwing for editing this for me. Thank you several times over my friend. **

**I hope you enjoy, while short I did enjoy writing this for all of you. **

**Killy**

**Chapter 8: A Job for Sister Prudence.**

At breakfast Blodwen spotted Colonel Hardan marching briskly towards her. At his side was Sister Prudence, the young mouse Sister from Redwall Abbey. Sliding out of the bench, the Corporal came to attention smartly.

"At ease, Blodwen. The good Sister has come to me with a humble request, and I thought you were the jolly haremaid to see it be done. Now if you will excuse me, ladies, I best be seeing to m'breakfast, wot." He saluted the Sister with his pace stick before leaving the pair.

As Blodwen had already finished her breakfast, she returned her dishes to the trolleys where the kitchen staff would take them to be washed. She bid Sister Prudence follow along.

"I heard that the Log-a-log is unable to return you to the Abbey this late in the fall, and that you will be joining us until spring."

The mousemaid nodded. "Yes, which is why I'm so happy the Colonel brought me to you. You see, In Redwall, much like here, idle paws are not tolerated. We all have tasks and chores we are assigned to help make life filling for all. Werth, being a warrior, has fit in quite well here at Salamandastron. He's assisting your blades master in training the young in the arts of a swordsbeast, and he seems to be enjoying it quite a lot."

Blodwen nodded. "Ah, but you, Sister, are no warrior. I take it y'having a bit of a rough time fitting in with us bounders?"

The Sister tucked her paws in her habit sleeves. "I have been most warmly welcomed here. However, I do find at times, I don't quite fit in. I had been helping out in the kitchens; while I was never much of a cook, I thought at the very least I could offer some assistance there. Now that it seems my stay will be much longer than a few weeks, I was hoping to serve in the area of my true calling."

The haremaid's ears twitched some as they walked together. "What is your true calling, Sister?"

"Much like yourself, I am a healer. At Redwall Abbey I serve as assistant infirmary keeper. I thought perhaps I could work in your infirmary. I'm sure the head healer and I could share information and learn from one another. Your Colonel told me you are the hare to make the introductions."

At this news, Blodwen smiled, but also appeared nervous. "Well, I am the hare that can arrange it. I'll warn you, our infirmary keeper runs a tight ship. He's known for his quick temper and sharp tongue. The Major doesn't like strangers in his infirmary. I'll speak with the chap, see what I can do."

Briskly the haremaid ascended the stairs, towards the infirmary. Sister Prudence had to hike up her habit in order to keep up with the hare's long strides. Coming to the door, Blodwen whispered quick instructions. "Follow me, but stay by the door while I speak with him."

The mouse nodded quietly and followed her guide within. The room was nearly twice the size of the infirmary at Redwall. Neatly made cot beds lined one wall of the long room, although there were no injured or sick creatures currently using them. There were not one but two pot bellied iron stoves. Sister Prudence thought this odd, as surely one would keep the room warm. Only one was lit, the one closest to the window, which was open to take out some of the heat. At the far end there was another small room, the head healer's office. Beside the door was a large cabinet with neatly organized bottles and packets. Sister Prudence wanted to get a better look at this. It appeared to be a system of storing medicinal herbs, something the current Abbey infirmary keeper could learn from. Prudence often lamented how old Brother Mund kept the infirmary in a state of organized chaos. The ancient dormouse insisted he had a system, and could find everything. Pity was, she and the other healers never could.

Three young hares sat on a bench in the middle of the infirmary. The emblem of a dock leaf on the right shoulders of their tunics identified them as healers. Each of these young medics worked away stitching a glove that had a long gash cut into it. An older hare paced around the three, his paws folded behind his back as he watched their progress.

"Frupple, mind how quickly y'move those paws. That beast is liable to bleed out before you're blinking done with your stitches." He huffed, noting the work of the first. Rounding to the centre he eyed the haremaid closely, relieving her of the glove and inspecting her work. "Better, Miss Totley. Remember, gel, this isn't some dashed cross-stitch, this is a paw. The paw of a creature who is relying on you to bandage and repair it so that he can keep jolly well using it." He passed the glove back for the maid to continue her work. The last hare quivered visibly, knowing he was the last to be critiqued. "Wrong again Tuttle, y'need to practice stitching in a straight line, laddie buck. If y'can't do it on a glove, 'ow will y'do it on the real thing should the time ever come?" Young Tuttle gulped nervously.

Blodwen stepped in, nodding respectfully to the major. "Sah, might I have a quick word with you?"

Looking up from his pupils, the healer spotted the mouse at the door. Then, glancing to the corporal, nodded. "Aye, but make it quick, missie." He guided her towards his office, calling out, "Keep practicing, you three." The three hares dared not look up from their work.

When they were alone, the Major sat down on his chair with a light huff. "Honestly, Wen, I don't know what it is with young 'uns these days. Y'were never as bad as this lot the Colonel gives me to train. Yesterday, a leveret was brought in; the little lad had a splinter. I told Tuttle to see to it, and wot does the young rip do? Nearly faints at the sight of it. A bally splinter, and the chap near faints. I hate t'see wot will happen the day he's faced with a chum pierced with a flippin' arrow."

The healer settled back in his chair, grumbling under his breath. For a moment he seemed lost in thought, his deep hazel eyes far away. The distraction passed, he blinked, glanced up at Blodwen then cleared his throat laboriously.

"What words did you want, Wen, speak up, quickly m'gel."

Blodwen nodded politely. "The mouse Sister, she's one of the visitors from Redwall Abbey. As they will be staying till spring, she wanted to offer her skills to the mountain. At the Abbey she is assistant infirmary keeper. The Colonel wanted me to ask…"

"The Colonel, humph, too frightened t' ask me himself, wot? Thought I wouldn't agree unless he sent me blinking step-daughter with the task. Humph, probably right though, wot. Very well, Wen, the mousie can stay." He rose from his seat, crossing to the door. Blodwen smiled, pleased he agreed to take the mouse on.

Outside, the young healers still worked away on their gloves while Sister Prudence stood quietly waiting by the door. She was most pleased to see the smile on Blodwen's face, but was taken off guard as the head healer rounded up on her. He marched about her, his eyes taking full stock of the mouse.

"So, y'll be the Sister who assists at the Redwall Infirmary eh? Well, missie, this isn't Redwall, and I ain't no Brother. They call me Major Miltrun, you will call me Major or Sah. You will be given orders, just as my hares under my command. If I come to doubt your abilities, I shall have you reassigned. Are we clear, Sister?"

Glancing up at the formidable sight of the Major, Sister Prudence swallowed hard. "Yes, Major, I understand."

"If you will excuse me, Major, Sister Prudence. I have other duties to attend to." Blodwen smiled; the Abbey sister had done well so far. Saluting her step-father and nodding to the mouse, she left them to get better acquainted.

The young hares glanced up from their work, watching the mouse with curiosity. At a stern glance from their elder they quickly went back to work. Prudence couldn't help but smile; they were such good young ones. The first order of business was a tour of the immense infirmary. Major Miltrun showed her the organized storage of herbs and medicines. Every single leaf and dried root had to be accounted for. With strict instructions, Prudence was taught the way all healers were expected to record what they used and when. The moment any materials began to dwindle, arrangements would be made to acquire more. Some of the herbs and remedies could be collected from the gardens that grew along the mountain. Others were found within a day's march of the fortress. Some of the plants, however, required far more organization to collect. For this reason the supplies were never permitted to drop below half. Running out of these rare materials could be the difference between life and death.

Next the Major instructed her on the use of the stoves. "One is used to warm the place, the other to get rid of any waste."

"Waste?" Sister Prudence had never come across anything like this at Redwall.

"Yes, M'gel, waste. Used bandages, bedding of contagious patients, anything that may make another beast sick. When in doubt, burn it." The Major's voice was low, with a hint of pained seriousness. "Can't have any flamin' sicknesses taking us by surprise again."

It was then she recalled old Brother Mund speaking of a tragedy that had befallen Salamandastron. While she did not know the details, she knew it was a fever, a sickness that spread rapidly, killing many brave hares and the Badger Lord. Recalling this, she understood the Major's words all the more clearly. She dipped her head respectfully. "Of course Major."


	9. Chapter 9:Mud Castles

Chapter 9: Mud Castles

With the cool breeze of autumn upon them, Letti and Blyth played on the rock face gardens. Joining the sisters was a young highland hare named Adair McGearr, who was only a season older. The McGearr's were longtime friends of Peony and Tutsan. Both Adair Sr. and his wife Thistlelow patrolled with Peony. As both young Adair's parents were away, Peony was pleased to look in on the leveret from time to time. He had grown quite a friendship with her girls. The trio was covered from footpaw to eartip in dirt. Adair had come up with the idea to build a castle out of stray stones lying around the gardens. Using soil, stone, and bits of vegetation, the leverets constructed a lopsided pile, but to them it was a castle. Peony watched on from a distance. She didn't mind how dirty they got; there was lots of time for baths before supper.

"Mummy look." Blyth pointed proudly to the pile. In her excitement to show her mother, she turned abruptly and her paw connected with the stones. Held together with only loose soil, the pile tumbled apart. At this Letti began to cry, which started young Blyth to well up with tears. The two small haremaids sobbed piteously as their beloved castle turned to rubble. Young Adair, being a little older, picked up some of the fallen rocks. "Dinna cry, Ah'll fix yon bonny castle."

The little highland hare took great pawfuls of dirt and rolled it into balls. "Ah has a better h'idea. Let's make braw mud pies fer tea."

Peony hurried in, scooping up Adair and tickling his ribs. The little creature squeaked with joy and instantly dropped the ball of soil.

"Stopit stopit!" he squealed.

"Beg pardon, young sah, did you want some more?" Peony laughed, holding him in her paws and twirling about. Adair was the picture of joy as his ears blew back in the light breeze created.

"Me!"

"No, me mummy."

The paws of both maids rose towards their mother, begging to be spun around.

"Well, will you just look at the state of these young'uns. Peony, they've absolutely ruined those smocks." Mem Semara glanced coldly towards her daughter, observing the dirt on each of her grandchildren.

"Nothing that a little soap and water can't fix." Peony set down Adair, then brushed the soil from her tunic. "What a pleasant surprise to see you, didn't think you would venture out to the gardens. What with the autumn chills an' all."

Mem licked a corner of her apron and proceeded to try and clean a squirming Blyth. "I was actually on my way to an Officers' Wives meeting. I thought I might bring along the little miss, to see the ladies."

"I go too," piped up the smaller voice of Letti. The young leveret held out her paws towards her grandmother. It was enough to break Peony's heart, and soften that of Mem's. If it wasn't for the physical difference in size and slight fur variation, anyone might believe the pair to be twins.

Blyth grabbed hold of her grandmother's apron, and began dusting off her sister's face. "Clean up, Letti," she announced in the charming toddler talk of her youth. Blyth imitated almost perfectly the stern look of her grandmother, much to the amusement of her mother.

Mem had been trying for weeks to show off Blyth to the ladies. Peony was rapidly running out of excuses not to allow it. She wanted her mother involved with her children, but didn't agree with the club that the elder harewife held in such high regard. Sighing heavily, she gave into the wishes.

"Mother, you can take the girls tonight if you wish. "

The announcement thrilled Mem. She gingerly patted each girl between the ears, careful to avoid any dirt. "Oh, we will have a jolly time, won't we, darlings? I'll see to it that Mrs. Maudberry makes a special pudding for the both of you. But first we're off to a bath. Then into pretty little dresses and bonnets, yes, that will be just the thing."

As with all hares, the promise of food would light up their eyes, and cause stomachs to growl. Taking both haremaids by the paw, Mem leads them away. Young Adair tugged on the edge of Peony's tunic.

"Ah wanna pudding too." He looked up imploringly.

Patting the leveret's ears, Peony picked away some of the caked-on dirt. "Of course y'do. Growing chap like y'self. How about we get you washed up and see about that pudding."

This pleased young Adair greatly; taking her paw he was content to be lead away for a bath.

888888888

For Letti and Blyth, it seemed the pudding was not as readily available as they suspected. Mem had seen to it that the girls were bathed. Both had squirmed and protested while she scrubbed them down with lavender soap, then squirmed again as she roughly dried their fur and brushed their downy leveret coats. Each were dressed in matching pink dresses that Mem herself had made. The maids found them to be scratchy and uncomfortable, nothing like the free-flowing smocks their mother dressed them in. These garments had lace sleeves, and bows and puffs. None of the other leverets owned anything puffy. Worst of all was the bonnets, lace trimmed with silk bows tied under the chin. There were no ear holes cut in the bonnets, so the maids were forced to keep their ears draped down their backs. Young hares like to fidget, and wiggle their ears; forcing them back was near agony for them.

Holding their grandmother's paws, the two little maids toddled towards the meeting chamber. Blyth scratched at her bonnet.

"Enough of that, m'dear. Maids shouldn't scratch like that." Mem gave Blyth's paw a light, yet warning, squeeze.

"Grandma, m'ear's twitchy." Blyth explained.

"Now, now, best behavior little 'uns." With one last warning, the maids were brought forth.

For all the fuss that Mem made about her little club, there wasn't a large membership. Six hare wives in total made up the Officers' Wives club. All were around Mem's seasons, none born and raised at Salamandastron. For as long as the club had been in existence, members were largely from the south. A few had come from the east, but it seemed that the maids from the southern country, those used to living a particular comfortable lifestyle, were more inclined to gather. None of the members had ever been northern or highland hares. Just as it wasn't surprising for hares to take brides from the southern country, occasionally Patrol hares found companions beyond the northern border. While there were cultural differences, they seemed to adapt and find companionship with others like themselves, rather than form social clubs.

Blyth in particular was paraded around the group. Her cheeks were pinched by every harewife who looked her over. Again and again Mem was informed of how much the leveret resembled her side of the family. Letti quietly watched as her sister was paraded around. She was too young to realize she was being excluded. The smaller of the pair adored her sister, and thought it all some sort of game. She clapped her paws cheerfully, as Blyth came once more to stand beside her.

"Don't see no pudding," Blyth whispered to Letti. The pair looked disappointed, and waited, and waited. They waited while the older females drank their mint tea and talked about things that neither interested nor were understood by the leverets. It seemed that Mem's idea of fun was far different from theirs. They sat, paw in paw, on a bench. They were not allowed to make any noise, and they couldn't have any of the plum cake, as it might stain their dresses. The scratchy garments were made all the worse by sitting still. Letti in particular couldn't help but fidget.

"Little 'un, why are you wriggling like a bally worm?" Mem questioned.

"Sorry." Letti could pick up her grandmother's disappointment and tried to stop.

From the halls came a ringing: one of the alarm bells fixed by the watch windows. Letti and Blyth perked up, curious as to what the noise was all about. The six wives of the Officers' Wives Club all descended into various forms of panic. Wringing paws and anxiously looking for places to hide, some voiced fears of searat attacks. For the two leverets the sight was quite amusing. They were a quite disappointed when Mem took both their paws and with speed went in search of their mother.

888888

Unlike Blyth and Letti, Adair got a helping of pudding. As he had behaved like a proper gentlebeast when Peony bathed and put him in a fresh tunic, the leveret received the prize. Peony had used her sway with the kitchen staff to get it. It also helped that the tiny highlander had stolen the hearts of all the kitchen hares. His adorable features and the thick accent coming from such a small creature, was too much to resist. The young hare sat atop the preparation table with a bowl of bread pudding on his lap and a large spoon in his paws. Knowing he had an audience, he made a great show of eating, pausing to comically rub his belly and smile, other times smacking his lips. His antics were rewarded by the swoons of the hare maids who worked in the kitchen.

"Aww, will y'look at the jolly little fellow."

"I say, he's quite the little gentlebeast."

"Can't we get him some more pudding, might fill out those cheeks a bit, wot?"

"No more pudding," Peony insisted, right as two of the haremaids were about to prepare another helping. "Can't spoil the little chap's supper." Her ears perked, hearing the warning bells. "What's all this din about?"

Unlike the Officer's Wives Club, the kitchen staff was calm about the alarm. They knew orders would reach them, and as they were not responsible for responding to the call they didn't leave their duties. As none of the kitchen hares were worried, Adair continued eating, ignoring the noise.

Tutsan arrived; he seemed relieved when he spied Peony. "Oh, good, found you. Bad news I'm afraid, m'dear. Trouble up in the North Country. Two birds just showed up out of the blinking blue, osprey types I think. They were carrying a message, from Major Bernie. Colonel Hardan briefly went over the bally scrawl, but it seems there was a skirmish with rats. I'm afraid…" It was then he caught sight of Adair. Looking to his wife, his brown eyes were grim, but he said no more words. There was no need for words. The leveret remained blissfully unaware of what was left unsaid.

Nodding slowly, Peony passed a look to the kitchen hares. All had lost their content demeanor, and now passed sympathetic looks towards little Adair. "M'dear, we ought t'go discuss this business with the Colonel. Ladies, I hope you will keep an eye on master Adair, see that he's entertained. Perhaps another helping of pudding wouldn't hurt." Kissing the little leveret on the top of his head she excused herself with Tutsan.

"Who did we loose? Adair or Thistlelow?" she whispered as they crossed the mess hall.

Tutsan paused, taking hold of Peony's paw. He looked into her eyes, filled with the deep sorrow of losing a dear friend. "The blighters stole both of them from us."

Clenching her jaw, she blinked back a tear. "Any other casualties?"

"No, the others are fine. The details of the note were a bit rough sketched, but when the birds recover we should learn more. One was badly wounded; she's up in the infirmary now. Colonel Hardan will want t' see me again. Discuss tactics and all that rot. I should like you t'come with me. "

Peony nodded and followed her husband to the officer's mess. Other officers had gathered there; she quickly spied Bloomberry and Aubrey. As they too had gotten the news, their usually playful selves had faded into somber exteriors. The bells had stopped their ringing, and as there was no immediate threat, most hares returned to their duties. In the mess those gathered looked to the figure of Lady Oranna who had come to join them.

The young badger seemed crestfallen as she moved to address her hares. "Colonel Hardan has informed you of our loss. We shall not let the death of two perilous hares be in vain. I intend to reinforce our strength in the northern border. Larger patrols to start with. Also I've discussed with the Colonel plans to expand out northern posts. We will learn from this, and honour the memory of our fallen friends with every vermin we put in the earth." The badgermaid clenched her paws into fists.

Calmly Colonel Hardan interjected. "Two ospreys brought us the report. Seems the rotten rats damaged their nest homestead or wotever. Meantime Major Miltrun and Sister Prudence will be overseeing their care. I suggest you jolly well avoid the infirmary as much as possible, an' encourage those under your command t'do the same, wot. Injured birds are especially dangerous. No need t' frighten the blighters any more than need be. Right, for now there are no further orders. Dismissed."

The officers milled about, filing out of the mess slowly. Tutsan and Peony lagged behind. When most of the hares had departed, Peony approached the Colonel and Badger Lady. She nodded her head respectfully to each in turn.

"Sah, Marm, if I may I would like to discuss young Adair. His father and mother were dear friends of mine. With your permission, Tutsan and I would like to be his guardians."

Hardan smiled, taking Peony warmly by the paws. "M'dear Peony, the McGearr's were blessed t'count the pair o'ye among their friends. I would happily grant ye such a request. However, Adair already sorted the arrangements when the lad was born. As soon as I can arrange it, word will be sent to the lad's uncle. Seems in the event of death they wished the young chap be raised in the highlands. I understand your young gel's are rather fond of the leveret. If there was some way I could keep the young'uns all together, I jolly well would. But, I can't deny a brave chap such a request."

While it saddened her that the young leveret would have to leave, Peony nodded. "Of course. I understand."

"Might you do one thing for me?" Hardan asked slowly.

"Of course, Sah." Something about Hardan's tone confused her.

"Would y'mind awfully telling the lad? I've always found it rather difficult discussing these matters with young'uns."

"Of course, Sah. Say no more." Bobbing her head, Peony took Tutsan's paw and left the mess, heart heavy with the task assigned to her.


	10. Chapter 10: The Birds

**A/N Here's the last chapter for a little bit (I need to write more, and Wing has already kindly edited everything I sent) Sorry this one is very short. All the same I hope everyone enjoys it. A big thank you to Wing for editing it for me. Also thank you to everyone who has read and taken the time to review. I love hearing feedback, constructive criticism or suggestions are always welcome. **

Chapter 10: The Birds.

Following orders from the Long Patrol officers, most of the hares gave the infirmary a wide berth. While many were curious about the pair of ospreys, none wanted to get too close to the birds. The wild cries of the animals could be heard in the hallways, and more than one healer had to be treated for scratches. Well after supper, a message arrived to Lady Oranna and Colonel Hardan, inviting them to visit the guests. The badgermaid's striped visage held a look of concern as she watched one of Major Miltrun's students sweeping up feathers in the hallway.

"Colonel, are you sure our healers are safe treating birds of this nature?" she whispered lowly, prior to entering the infirmary.

The old Colonel patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Have no fear, marm. The Major is the most skilled healer I know, and a perilous fighter t'boot. As for the lovely mouse gel, word has it Redwall frequently treats birds for ailments. No doubt, between the two of them, they'll have our new friends in tip top shape, in two ticks, wot."

As they entered the infirmary, they found the large room in a state of organized chaos. The typically neat space appeared turned upside down. The blankets of several cots were askew, the dividing curtains torn down in some places. Blood-stained feathers were everywhere, it seemed. Three of the trainee healers hovered by the cupboard of herbs, trying to look busy. Each fearing being called upon to assist in some way.

In the centre of it all was the Major and Sister Prudence, both looking surprisingly calm given the circumstances. Before them, two cots had been lashed together, blankets and comfortable bedding arranged into a crude nest pattern. Sprawled on top of the make-shift nest was a female osprey. Her head lolled forward, eyes closed in a heavily-drugged sleep. Both wings were bandaged and fixed to long wooden planks. The extra cot was added to accommodate the bird's wingspan comfortably. Alongside this prone bird was another osprey, perched on a cot of his own. Heavily bandaged, he held watch over his mate.

Major Miltrun stepped forward and made introductions. "M'lady, Colonel Hardan, this is Skawar of the Carptalon clan. He and his mate Osiree have traveled far to bring us news of Major Mullins' patrol."

Skawar leaned forward, his sharp beak dangerously close to Hardan's nose. Not showing the slightest bit of fear, the old campaigner respectfully continued with the pleasantries.

"Welcome to the stronghold of Salamandastron, Mr. Carptalon. Allow me t'introduce our Badger Lady, Oranna."

Stepping back, the old hare whispered to the mousemaid, "Wot's with all the mess, old gel?"

Leaning closer to the hare's ear, Prudence offered up a quick explanation. "Osiree panicked some, tried to fly about the Infirmary. Skawar tried to fight us off when we bound her wings. It took a bit of work, but eventually the Major convinced him we were only trying to help."

Skawar wasn't sure if he could trust these creatures before him. Dark eyes watched unblinking as hare and mouse whispered.

"Yikhaah! Why mouse and old one whisper so Skawar not hear?" he screeched.

Prudence folded her paws in her wide habit sleeves. "Sorry, Skawar, I didn't mean to be so rude. The Colonel was only wondering about all the feathers. I was just telling him about our, er, previous disagreement."

"Kehaah! Mouse and Major fix mate, no kill Osiree, keep promise." The bird eyes the mousemaid closely.

"Yes, and fix you too." Prudence found herself following into the bird's dialect habit.

The bird's eyes fell upon Oranna. "Lady want to know why Skawar here? Yes, yes, all beasts want to know. Burn give me scribbles, say all beasts on Fire Mountain want it."

"Burn?" Oranna interrupted.

Miltrun shrugged. "We've sorted the chap means Major Mullins."

"Tekaaar! You want my story or no?" the osprey hissed. When the others were quiet again he spoke. "We make great nest near north boarder. Osiree lay eggs there, good fish, good land. Then rats come, from ocean. Take eggs, break nest, hurt Osiree. Burn and hares come, fight them. I kill many rats with Burn. When done Burn dig holes for dead friends. Say bring message and hurt mate to mountain. Tell me to warn you that rats from Jall Co."

"Jall Co?" Oranna pondered. "Do you know what this means, Skawar?"

The osprey shook his feathered head. "No, rats is vermin, not care who vermin is. I slay vermin, not think on them."

The Colonel stroked his mustache. "Hmm, Jall Co, Jallco, Jallgo. Great seasons, that's it, they must be connected with that Jallgo business from the summer."

The young badger began to look increasingly concerned. "All the more reason for us to strengthen our patrols. If Jallgo's vermin are in the north and south, we best be on our guard." She then bowed to the osprey. "Skawar, as your home was lost, I offer you and Osiree a place in our home. We have a number of empty chambers in the top sections of the mountain. I'm sure a nest of sorts could be constructed there, once you are both recovered. I'm told the fishing is good in these waters. It has been many seasons since Salamandastron has had resident birds. I hope you will consider our offer."

With a weary sigh, Skawar nodded. "Kehaaah! Me thinks on this." He then closed his eyes, and tucked his beak under his wing. This was his way of sending the others away, as he needed rest.

Leaving the infirmary, the old hare and badgermaid walked together along the hallways.

"I do not wish to question the will of the Badger Lady, but why were you so quick t'offer those birds a bally bunk in our home?" Hardan asked, curious as to Oranna's reasoning.

The badgermaid was happy to explain her line of thought. "Well Colonel, it seems to me those birds are in need of help. Passing on a little charity has never harmed a creature. Additionally, if Salamandastron has enemies on all sides, it would do us well to have birds residing with us. Extra eyes, you see. Even if they do not wish to help us, their presence will keep those aggravating seagulls away."


	11. Chapter 11: The King of the mink

**A/N Surprise I'm not dead! **

**Yes it has taken a long time, I'm sure you will rub it in. I no doubt deserve it. Many thanks are owed as always. There were many who helped get this chapter up, and to all of you I am grateful. I will try to get this story updated on a far more regular basis. **

**Thank you to those who have kindly reviewed or sent me messages of encouragement. Thank you to those who have critiqued and helped me try to formulate a better story. Thank you to those who read or skim through the story.**

Chapter 11: The King of the mink

When Yeevada had finished with the garment, the result was far more pleasing than Vaniska could have hoped for. Using anything she could lay paw to, the clever vixen had altered the young arson's cloak and tunic to appear more fitting of his new perceived status. Although it was autumn, the tunic neck was cut at an angle that fully exposed his throat and collar bone. To this she added a heavy white boarder to draw attention to his red fur .Yeevada stitched flames of red velvet along the back of his cloak. After all, he fancied himself an arsonist; and what better way to spread fear in the hearts of his enemies, than to march in appearing as if he himself were alight.

Helping the young lord dress, the vixen offered up some last words of advice. "Speak vit confidence, do not shy away. Offer your paw to his cause. Do not let Nicara talk too much." Her words were hushed, carrying low warnings. Her paws adjusted how the cloak hung over his shoulders, with a whisper she added," Take me vit you. I know these vays far better zen your mate." With these last words into his dark ears she drew back.

Nervous, but bolstered with youthful confidence Vaniska nodded. Clearing his throat he ambled down the gangway to join Nicara and Konnel. His wife was taken by surprise. She hadn't anticipated that Vaniska had the capability of dressing in such a manner. He bordered on what she might consider to be dashing, had she not found him so repulsive. It wasn't surprising that Konnel looked upon him with colder eyes.

Spying Yeevada following behind Vaniska, Nicara snapped. "What's that witch doing here?"

"I invited her along." Vaniska replied, trying on an authoritative voice for size.

The vixen shook her head. Such a tone would not be tolerated in her fool of a husband. "I will not have that rag-tag coming along with us." She insisted her lip upturned in distaste for the gypsy vixen.

"She knows these creatures, far better than we do. She stays." A low rumble tickled at the back of Vaniska's throat. Clutching the corner of his cloak, he swept it back, striding over the gangway with his newfound confidence.

The beagle returned, flanked by nearly a score of Mink guards. "King Fredik will see you now." The dog announced. Folding a paw behind his back he bowed low, inviting the party to join him. With tail bristled, Nicara pushed past her husband to take her place walking beside the beagle. This caused Vaniska's confidence to falter; perhaps he couldn't be the lord he wanted to be. A gentle paw reached into the folds of his cloak and squeezed his, he turned and found Yeevada smiling and keeping pace beside him. "Courage" she whispered.

The castle of Fredik was a far more welcoming atmosphere rather than that of Queen Tarza. This mink had a taste for the elegant, not just the violent. The foxes were brought to the main hall to be received by the king and queen. All around them, large tapestries lined the walls. Each depicted scenes of history, both actual and mythologized. Yeevada regarded these closely, interpreting each one carefully. The woven cloths showed the rise of the minks in the region. Threads of dark hues formed sleek warriors, the minks. Chieftans that vanquished the larger sables who once ruled the region. In the background of the largest tapestry otters and wood mice labored in the fields appearing to rejoice at their new masters. Even Yeevada wasn't fool enough to believe this. The conquests of the mighty were always paid with the blood of the weak. The vixen's eyes danced along the images, eyeing anything that might be of use for later.

The king and queen emerged from behind one of the smaller wall hangings. The creak of wood betrayed the presence of a secret door. The ornate tapestries and finely crafted woodcarvings distracted eyes from what lay beyond the line of sight.

Fredik was a tall mink, nearly the same size of a ferret. He waved a dark paw towards the escorts, encouraging them to leave him with his visitors. Eyeing the foxes a moment, he sat back on his highly polished oak throne. The female a far smaller creature came to sit upon a smaller throne. She carried with her the same grace as autumn leaves, for she was so slight it appeared the very wind might take her off. For a time, the king said not a word, his dark eyes staring unmoving towards Vaniska.

"You haf come far." He spoke at last. "Vat is it you vant?"

Nicara strode forward, mustering up her most seductive of tones. "We come only seeking friendship, with the great King Fredik, and to help in his battle."

The female mink, seated beside her husband coughed covering up a laugh. She turned her glance away from Nicara her form quivering in mirth. Upon her slender neck she wore number of pearl necklaces. These bounced upon one another as she tried to hold in her laughter, clicking like the chattering of teeth. The King scratched his chin. Surveying the four his eyes stayed on Vaniska. Ignoring the vixen he addressed the finely dressed male-beast.

"Does she oft seek friendship of strange creatures?" he asked with quirked brow and a tone carrying strong innuendo.

Realizing that this was his moment in the spotlight, he took a pace forward. "My wife has traveled far from her comfortable southern home. She gets excitable."

Nicara couldn't believe the words she was hearing. A newfound anger boiled within her. She might have slain Vaniska then and there, but his words brought about a change in the mink. The King nodded, offering a sympathetic smile to Vaniska.

"Des tings can happen wit female creatures." He motioned Vaniska closer. "Now, let us talk of important tings. My beasts say you haf many fighters vit you."

Vaniska nodded. "Yes sire, that is true."

This pleased Fredik, but he was not quick to trust the fox. "But vat would you vant, vhy you help us?"

Vaniska thought a moment before answering, hoping he could build up a believable answer. "We have come seeking a title in these lands. "

"Title, ye are not from dis empire. " He paused spying Yeevada. "Vell not all of ye. Vhy is she vit you?" His tone held more suspicion than before.

Never blessed with exceptional cleverness, Vaniska was at a loss as to what to do. He faltered, such hesitancy might have been a diplomatic mistake, however the gypsy vixen quickly played her role.

The small bells stitched into her skirt tinkled as she walked. Bowing low, so that her forehead brushed with the floor she rose slowly to meet Fredik's gaze. "I am der seer. My visions tell me dat you vill need des foxes to vin this battle. "

Nicara watched wide eyed, she hadn't expected this turn of events. To her even greater surprise, King Fredik seemed to be buying her story.

Swaying back and forth, appearing to be lost in a trance she spoke in a low sing-song voice. "The ground vill be cleaned vit fire. None of dis will come t'pass if dis fox is not der."She pointed a claw towards Vaniska, her eyes rolling back in her head. Placing her paws over her eyes she let out a series of yelps and barks, unlike anything anybeast present had ever seen.

"Der is more…" She cried. Scrambling up to the mink queen she circled the creature. Fredik's mate was ridged with fear. "Der is a son inside her. Von dat vill grow to greatness. De best hunter, de best fighter, a king o'land and sea. I see much blood left in his vake. At young age he vill take his first life. He vill be as cunning as fox, an' de bravest o' minks."

Her words pleased Fredik that much was evident by the look on his face. His mate still appeared terrified by the vixen's words. "Is dis true?" He asked her.

She placed her paws over her midriff unsure of what to do. The slight queen had known for a short time she was with child, yet hadn't told her husband for fear she might lose it before going full term. It had happened before, it had angered him greatly. She did not wish a repeat of that day in the near future. Having been put on the spot by the vixen's prophesy she had no choice but to reply. Not able to form the words the queen nodded her dark head.

"I know dis ting." Yeevada screeched, causing the young queen to jump.

It was enough for Fredik. He stood approaching Vaniska. "Come, ve haf much to speak about. Tracker, see dat our guests are comfortable."

The beagle strode forward, and ushered Nicara, Konnel and the strange Yeevada to him. He guided them to the dining hall where they could feast on waterfowl and preserved fruit, until such a time that Fredik was finished with Vaniska. Once the three foxes were in the hall, Tracker departed, bolting the door as he left.

When they were out of earshot of the dog, Nicara paced the hall. "What has he done? We should never have let him go alone, the fool will ruin everything."

Konnel picked at the roasted duck, it was far better than what the corsairs cooked. "I dunno, seems he charmed the king well enough."

"Charmed? Ugh! I shall have his head, I want that fox DEAD!" She winced hearing the last statement ringing in the hallway.

Yeevada stood a ways back, smirking at Nicara's outrage.

"An' what was that trick you pulled?"

"I do not trick." The cool response came from the gypsy fox. "But if you vould like I can tell dat mink the truth. Dat you are a spoiled princess, who vished t'get away from under her faders shadow." Knowing that Nicara had been just as afraid of her as the mink queen, gave Yeevada a sense of power over the other vixen.

"You will pay for this!" snarled Nicara.

"Should I tell Fredik dat 'is success in battle relies on tossing you yer corsairs out? He too has beagles dat can rip you limb from limb."

"Ladies." Konnel spoke coolly, amid bites of food. "Sit, eat. This is not the place for such threat. Fur only knows what ears may be on us."

Realizing there was truth to this they joined him, passing dark looks between one another.

8888888888888888888888888888 8888888888888888888888888888 88888888888888888

Young Adair lay curled up on his parent's bed. The little highland hare had swathed himself in his father's tartan. It still carried the familiar scent, and the leveret wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by that smell. He did not cry when Peony and Tutsan explained the tragic events that unfolded. The only response he had given was to go to the closet, fetch the tartan and hide inside of the massive garment. Tutsan sat on a small wooden stool, while Peony perched herself at the edge of the bed. The kindly harewife lifted the edge of fabric, so that the leverets face was visible.

"'ave I been naughty?" He asked slowly.

"Wot would make y'say a thing like that young laddo?" Tutsan remarked leaning forward.

" Ah'm t'be sent ah-way. " His big brown eyes looked up to Peony. "Don't wants ta leave marm."

With heart breaking, Peony scooped Adair, tartan and all into her lap. She held him rocking the leveret slowly back and forth. "I know, young 'un. I know."

That night Adair slept tucked in between Letti and Blyth. At the little hare's insistence he was allowed to take his mother's pillow and sleep wrapped in the tartan. Being a season younger, the Linwood children didn't really understand what had happened to their friend. They didn't yet understand battle, or death. Peony wished they would never have to learn such things, but she knew if they choose to remain at Salamandastron such lessons could not be avoided.

With the little ones asleep Peony and Tutsan joined their friends in the officer's mess. While Peony wasn't a Long Patrol officer, nobeast would begrudge her admittance.

Captain Bloomberry had just made a fresh pot of comfrey tea when they arrived. Cups were soon passed around to the assembly. Pressing the comforting beverage into Peony's paw she asked, "Is the little buck asleep?"

Peony nodded. "Yes, and rather well too, considering. I'm not sure if it has all sunk in yet. He's more upset about going to live with his uncle, rather than the passing of his parents."

"Pity the lad's gotta go." Aubrey added, blowing over his cup to cool the contents." I 'eard Sergeant McFarrdow saying the young chap showed jolly ole potential, officer material so he said."

Bloomberry had doubts. "I hardly think one can know a leverets full abilities at such a young age. He's not even in bally school yet. "

Sipping from his cup, the younger Linwood brother shrugged. "I dunno Bloom. Word is Major Bernie can pick out the bright ones afore they can walk wot." He turned to Peony, as she served under the Major. "Is that true Peony or blinking tosh? Can the blighter really tell how a hare will turn out that bally young?"

"The Major is a rather intelligent chap, 'suppose that's how one becomes an officer of his rank. Although, I must agree with Bloomberry. After all if we based a beast's future on their actions as a babe, you Aubrey would be scrubbing pots till the end of your days." She couldn't help but offer up a light laugh.

Colonel Hardan looked weary when he entered the mess. Seeing the hares before him he seemed to perk up, if only slightly. "Ah, Tutsan the chap I've been meaning t'speak to. I want you and your hares on one of the patrols marching north. Got the first lot already on the move dontcha know, but I'll need a top notch commander ready to provide some relief when the going gets much harder, and the snow gets deeper." Realizing that Peony was also in the room he added. "You mentioned after your wedding, that you would like to swap out patrols and march together, wot. I can see to it if you wish."

It had been something they wanted since their engagement. However in light of recent events, Peony's prospective had changed. "Actually Colonel, I'd rather keep patrol arrangements as they are."

This took Tutsan by surprise. "Wait a tick m'gel, where did this jolly well come from?"

"I would like nothing more than to fight at my husband's side." She smiled to Tutsan. "However, if we are together, it is far more likely something could happen to the both of us. As with all perilous hares, death offers no fear for me, nor Tutsan. Though now our duty isn't just to Salamandastron. My heart is spilt to include Blyth and Letti. We must do what we can to ensure somebeast is there for them. If at all possible, I should like us to be on separate assignments."

Hardan having once been a father himself, couldn't agree more. "Indeed marm. The patrols stay as they are. Now chaps, an' chapesses we best prepare for some nastiness on the north coast." He began to pour himself up a cup of tea, then remembered. "Captain Brandybuck has already departed with a force of three score to aid the Major. Our new bird friends related a little more of the tale to the visiting mouse sister. Seems a blinking tribe of otters were also part of the fray. If I know otters they're fine chaps to have in a fight. They've always had a particular distaste for scummy searats wot. They like nothing better than to give them a taste of those bally stones and javelins they are fond of chucking. Bloomberry I want you to organize with her ladyship the mountain defense. Tutsan you're to be the relief for Bandybuck's lot. If those rats haven't got the fight knocked out of them by midwinter we'll need to send additional hares. Our chaps will be jolly tired by then, and another force of two score or so ought to put a little pep back into them, wot wot." The colonel then continued addressing the other officers present. Each was informed of their specific task or duty over the next season. Some would conduct patrols to the surrounding area to be sure no vermin attempted to move south. Others were instructed to train the young cadets to master their skills, and prepare for battle.

Aubrey waited for his own name to be mentioned. When it wasn't he cleared his throat.

"Swallowed something the wrong way ole chap?" The Colonel asked.

"Er, no sah, just wondering my assignment actually."

Hardan took a long drink of tea, it appeared he needed a moment to bring himself to be able to deal with the Lieutenant. "Well young sirrah, I need a chap of your caliber to teach the non-fighting beasts drills. I understand, the other day the warning bells caused quite a lot of panic during an officer's wives club meeting. Can't have old wives and widows dashing about like mad creatures, should an actual attack take place. First thing tomorrow, I want you to teach the ladies proper evacuation practices."

Aubrey groaned hearing the allotted task. Gaining sympathetic looks from his friends, he half heartedly saluted. "Yes, Sah, as you wish sah!"


	12. Chapter 12:Winter

**A/N Look another chapter, how exciting. This my friends is the end of book 2, but no fears there is a third book on the way. **

**Again huge thanks to everyone who helped put this together. This is your story as much as mine. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read through this story. Reviews are always welcome. I try to respond to each one individually. I openly accept any: questions, comments, suggestions and criticisms. **

**Thanks a bunch**

**Killy**

Chapter 12: Winter

The sound of the door unbolted signaled Vaniska's return. He looked visibly shaken, and this caused great concern to Nicara. Not that she was especially worried for her husband. Her fears were that the talks had not gone well.

"Well…" She stood paws on hips waiting for her husband's response.

"We're going to war." Vaniska spoke slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe the words. "He has agreed to accept us, and for a fee will put forth a petition for your title Nicara."

"A fee, for a petition?" Nicara looked doubtful.

"It is more than we could have hoped for." Konnel stepped in cooling the quick temper of his Lady. "At least this mink is willing to speak on our behalf. "

"There's more." Vaniska added. "He has agreed to give us a portion of Tarza's lands and the fortress on one condition."

Nicara's ears perked, the fortress of the mink queen had been quite expansive. With a few minor renovations, she could see herself living in there quite comfortably. "Well speak up, what is this condition?"

Vaniska sighed, looking doubtful. "The condition is that Yeevada's words are true, if he has a son, we get the land."

Nicara cursed slamming her paw on the table. "Hell's teeth! What have you brought on us vixen?

The gypsy turned seer looked most self-assured. "My vords ver da truth. There vill be a male child born." She nodded a grin crossing her face.

Nicara continued to stew in her bad temper. "I hope for your sake you're right. Otherwise I'll have your tail for this." Huffing and continuing to curse under her breath she made to leave. There was much preparing to be done.

8888888888888888888888888888 8888888888888888888888888888 88888888888888888

Word had passed to Nicara's searats and wave vermin that they were to fight the much feared Queen Tarza. It was met with a mix of hesitant anticipation, and outright fear. The few who had traveled with Nicara that fateful day had the opportunity to size up the beasts dwelling there. While seasons of soft living had taken their toll on their fighting skill, many of the younger vermin still felt their victory was assured. They had seen mostly mink and rats dwelling in the place. While mink hadn't been encountered by the vermin before, it was unanimously decided that this species was somewhere between weasel and otter. Relating this new beast to ones they already knew demystified their new foe. What did cause some alarm were the beagles. Those who had witnessed the murder of the otter had taken several liberties when retelling the account. This painted a picture of a beast that was stronger than a badger and faster than a hare. This beast could rip any one of the vermin in two, with one bite of their powerful jaws. Even when compared to familiar creatures the beagles were quickly becoming a beast of lore. The presence of Tracker, the king's hound had caused quite a stir among the crew. Those who had not witnessed the horrors watched closely wondering if perhaps this supposed monster would turn on their own at any moment.

Accommodations were arranged in Fredik's stronghold for Nicara and her officers. The rest of the vermin had to stay on their ships or fill empty spaces in the army barracks. The harbor was flooding day by day with corsairs. Included in this mix of beasts came; a large number of searats, wharf rats, and even some river rats. Then there were the ferrets, stoats and weasels, this group was also joined by sables. Minks were also not in short supply, in the coming days the sleek dark creatures could be seen all over the harbor front. Winter was fast approaching, but the bitter cold or the shortened days seemed not to hinder Fredik's thirst for war. It was the Yeevada's visions that held his paw.

8888888888888888888888888888 8888888888888888888888888888 8888888888888888

Weeks passed and the season turned. Winter fell upon the land with a cruel and heavy paw. Nicara watched the snow fall outside her chamber window. Each flake was greeted by wisps of black smoke that rose from the forages. Even in the comfort of the indoors the vixen could still hear the clanging as hammers pounded iron into blades and shields. It had been like this since her arrival. The treasure she had paid their new mink lord had been used to barter for supplies and outfit troops. Fredik had even gone so far as to strip down any metals that could be scrounged, to turn into weapons. Crippled beasts who might have starved the winter, found a substantial living gathering or stealing anything that could be melted down. Others fed their families by carving crude wooden bowls, cups, and cutlery to replace the reused metal ones.

A timid mink chamber maid passed by Nicara's door. She quietly left a vessel of rich port wine for her mistress, before hurrying away. When the vixen spied the vessel the drink was left in, she snatched up the clay cup and smashed it on the ground. "We live as peasants, when we should live as kings!" She shouted to no beast. How she longed for their battle to start. Nicara wasn't the only creature anxious. The feeling swept all the lands. Fredik was waiting, biding his time. As if to infuriate Nicara further the mink lord had taken to seeking out the guidance of Yeevada more and more this season. As her trance like words had predicted, Fredik's mate was indeed pregnant. Although the gender of the unborn child would remain a mystery until it arrived. Nicara clenched her claws, how she would like to strangle that vixen. She couldn't of course, no; the gypsy had made herself far too useful. Killing her would only rouse suspicion with Fredik and many of the other high-ranking officials. Patience would be needed, and Nicara's was wearing thin.

Fredik waited outside his chambers with many of his close advisors. They spoke in hushed tones using the language of the region. Their conversation broke when the beagle Tracker made his presence known. The hound bowed low so that his long ears nearly touched the stone floor. "M'lord, the last of the preparations is in place. Your beasts are ready to sail, the armoury is full, oh an' Verdereaux's ship has arrived. Shall I send him to you?"

There was a loud female screech erupting from behind the closed chamber doors. Tracker paused, his brown eyes peering towards the chamber. Fredik was quick to snap his hound's attention back to him.

"No, he can vait like de others." With a wave of his dark paw he dismissed the beagle, and his other minks. When they had departed he pulled open the doors of his chamber. Hidden behind the heavy curtain of their canopy bed, lay his mate writhing in the pain of labour. In with her was Yeevada, she sang in low tones as she administered herbs to the mink. From the distance Fredik kept, he could hear his wife's screams. Then the lingering sound of new life, the high pitch cries of a babe. He moved forward, curious to see if the predication had come to pass. Yeevada's song grew all the louder as she cleaned and swaddled the babe. The vixen passed the infant into the new father's arms. "Your son sire." Bowing her head, she gave Fredik just what he had been waiting for. The mink had no intentions to march until his son was born.

"Iz he a strong son?" his wife asked, her voice distant from exhaustion.

Holding the tiny mink, Fredik brought him to his wife. "You haff done vell." He commended. He glanced down at her with love in his eyes. Never before had she seen such emotion in her husband's face. The mink lord couldn't help but notice the dark red stains on the bed coverings. Did childbirth really cause such blood? The female mink sighed softly; the vixen mopped the exhausted creature's brow. Another dose of medicine was prepared.

"To slow bleeding." The vixen explained as she tipped the wooden beaker to help the mink drink.

"Iz dis normal?" Fredik ventured to ask, spying the dark stain spreading throughout the snow-white blankets.

Yeevada made no reply; her grim face gave the answer he sought.

By the time night had fallen, another one of Yeevada's predictions proved true. The infant prince had taken his first life.


End file.
